The Seaside Inn

An adult stories – The Seaside Inn by sparrowsnax,sparrowsnax It was a plain manila envelope, the label typed and stuck on, stamps in their proper place. It was addressed to Bethany Corder, which already made it unusual. Most of my university correspondence was sent to Dr. Corder, or perhaps Dr. Bethany Corder, P.h.D. if it was something formal.

I was already curious what it contained as I walked back to my office holding the stack of mail in my arms. It was late in the day, I should have been heading out to my car, but instead I was killing time, delaying the dull routine that awaited me at home. I closed my office door, dropped the letters on my desk and started sorting through them one by one. Most of them went straight into the trash with barely a glance. The envelope was the first one I stopped to open.

I peeked inside. There was a typed letter, and a thick glossy piece of paper, or no, a photograph. I pulled it out first. It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at, but once I did, my heart stopped.

It was me and David. The photo was dim and grainy, zoomed in, taken through my bedroom window. My face was clearly visible. Everything was visible. I was nude, standing up and facing the window. David was behind me, his arm draped across my chest under my breasts, pushing them up. I could see my dark pink nipples jutting out and barely visible in the dim lamp light. My dark brown hair was a mess, strewn across my bare shoulders. My mouth was open in an expression of pure lust. I couldn’t see his cock in the photo, our lower halves were blocked by the windowsill, but I knew it was there, deep inside me as he fucked me from behind.

Oh no. No. I kept repeating it in my head as the adrenaline hit me. No, no, no. My eyes were wide with shock. I was instantly hit by cold sweat all over my body.

Someone knew. How? Who? Why? The thoughts raced across my mind faster than I could process them.

I could barely see straight. I stared at the picture for what felt like hours. Someone had spied on us. Taken a photo.

I remembered the night he came over. My husband, Paul, was at some law enforcement conference, and my son Kyl was on a camping trip with a few of his new college friends. We had the place to ourselves, and had taken advantage of the empty house.

The memories flooded back as I clutched the glossy paper between my fingers. David had fucked me downstairs in the living room. We’d practically torn off each other’s clothes as soon as he walked in the door. Later that night, after we’d calmed down, we’d done it again in the master bedroom. He’d been slow. Sensual. And someone else had been outside, up the slope of the hill in the dark backyard, spying on us having sex through the window.

I broke off the affair a few months later. I couldn’t handle the guilt. The numerous little lies I told to explain why I was home late, or leaving early for work.

So what was this? Whoever took this photo had it for months. Why now? I swallowed nervously and fished the letter out of the envelope.

It was typed on plain white paper, no identifying marks.

TELL ANYONE AND THIS PICTURE WILL BE EMAILED TO YOUR HUSBAND AND HIS ENTIRE PRECINCT, ALL THE FACULTY OF YOUR SCHOOL, AND ALL YOUR STUDENTS. THEY WILL ALL SEE IT. YOUR LIFE WILL BE RUINED.

RENT A ROOM AT THE SEASIDE INN ON TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 12TH, 8PM. GO INSIDE AND LEAVE THE DOOR UNLOCKED. IF YOU DON’T, THE PICTURES GO PUBLIC.

Pictures? There were more? It was already Monday. I hadn’t checked my office mail in nearly a week. I had barely a day to deal with this. My mouth was a desert. I tried to swallow away the lump in my throat, but it persisted no matter how many times I gulped. What could I do? I tried to think, but my mind felt fuzzy, like my brain had been replaced with pink cotton candy.

I couldn’t go to the police. My husband was the deputy sheriff, going to them would be the same as letting this creep expose me. I thought about the FBI, but what could they do in less than 24 hours? File some paperwork, most likely. Besides, whoever sent this could easily email everything they had in seconds, at which point it would all be for nothing.

Shit. My heart was still pounding as I played the scenarios out in my head. My entire office seeing pictures of me fucking one of my grad students. I’d likely be fired, ostracized in my field.

I pictured all my husband’s police officer buddies opening their inbox and seeing the woman they’ve had barbecues with, naked, having sex with another man. I thought of Paul and Kyl. Seeing the disappointment in their eyes, the disgust at what I’d done. A wave of nausea hit me.

What could I do? This wasn’t something I ever thought I’d had to think about, or deal with. Blackmail. It was like something in a movie. Maybe I could hire a private investigator. Except, we lived in a small college town. Every PI was sure to have ties to local law enforcement. I couldn’t trust them not to let something slip, or to intentionally inform my husband his wife was being unfaithful out of some kind of police solidarity.

I angrily stuffed the photo and letter back into the envelope and shoved it in the bottom of my desk drawer. All thoughts of grading papers and going through the rest of my mail left my brain. I walked out of my office and out to the parking lot, my vision going dark around the edges as I started my car.

Muscle memory was the only thing that got me home safely. I shouldn’t have driven. I was still wired, adrenaline flowed through my veins like ice water. I let out a scream of frustration that turned into a choked sob as I made the final turns towards our two-story home in the hills.

I had to sit in the car for another twenty minutes to calm down before I headed inside. Luckily no one came home for a few hours and I had time to settle down. I told my husband and son I wasn’t feeling well, and they didn’t question why I stayed locked in the bedroom all night.

I pretended to read a book in case Paul came up, but he never did. I don’t know why I bothered. He always ended up falling asleep downstairs on the couch, watching some TV show.

The entire time I laid in bed all I could think about was the envelope. The words burned into my brain: RENT A ROOM. THE PICTURES GO PUBLIC.

I barely slept that night. I couldn’t think of an answer. I had nothing.

I canceled my office hours the next day, but couldn’t think of a good excuse to get out of my lectures, so I had to muddle through. Luckily, I had been teaching these same Microeconomics classes for almost a decade now. I stuck to my routine, trying not to slip and let my inner turmoil spill out.

The day passed in a blur. It was already five thirty. My heart was pounding. I had no choice. I had to go.

I sent a text to Paul, saying I was staying late to grade some papers at the office.

I drove to the motel. It was called the Seaside Inn, but it was still ten miles from the nearest beach on the edge of town. It looked a bit dated, an old classic road motel advertising FREE HBO next to the glowing VACANCY sign, but it wasn’t dirty or neglected. It seemed quiet, like the kind of place a cheap college student might go if they needed some privacy.

The clerk barely said two words to me when I rented a single room. I filled out the form he handed me, and paid with my personal credit card, the one I used for surprise Christmas presents. My hands shook as I wrote down my information. He handed me a key to room 112.

I walked down the narrow dimly lit concrete path lined with doorways. It wasn’t hard to find the room, considering the entire motel was a simple array of doorways facing the small parking lot. I stopped outside the door to room 112 and took a deep breath before unlocking it with the classic metal key the clerk had given me.

It was 7:30 when I walked into the dark motel room. I turned on the lights, surveying the space. It was clean, a queen bed with a floral print blanket sat in the middle of the room next to a single wooden nightstand and a small lamp. The walls were beige. It looked like a million other cheap motels I’d stayed in over the past 43 years of my life.

There was a chair near the door, but the space was too small for much else. I could see a sink near the back and another door next to it presumably leading to the bathroom. I walked to the end of the room, smelling the faint perfume of whatever industrial cleaning supplies the maids here used. I peeked in the bathroom door and flipped on the light switch. It had a tub, toilet, soft white towels, and a white-yellow linoleum floor. Nothing unusual.

I started pacing back and forth next to the bed. It was almost 7:50 before I remembered to unlock the door. I shuddered as I clicked the little metal toggle on the door handle. What was I doing? Was I really going to meet with someone who’d do something this? Who’d blackmail a woman? But what choice did I have?

I brought my checkbook. They probably wanted money. I’d give it to them, just this once. I needed to buy some time to come up with a plan. I kept pacing, clutching my small handbag close to my chest like a shield.

The door handle jiggled. I jumped in surprise, my eyes going wide. My legs got shaky and I quickly sat down on the bed.

The door opened, and a man walked in. His face was covered in a black ski-mask. He had on a pair of cheap blue jeans and a dark gray hoodie. He wasn’t short, but not tall, maybe 5’11”, I couldn’t be sure. He quickly shut the door behind him. My dark brown eyes were wide open with fear.

I could tell he was young, or at least, not old, judging by the small bits of white skin I could see around his eyes, but that was about all I could discern except for his general build. He had broad shoulders and looked fit from the way his hoodie stretched across his chest, but not so muscular that he would stand out in a crowd.

He could have been any one of the many young guys I saw every day at school. But then again, maybe not. He might have been anywhere between eighteen and thirty-five. It was hard to tell. There was something strangely familiar about how he stood, but I was so frightened I could barely think.

He seemed content to stand next to the door and stare at me, so I spoke first.

“How- how much do you want? I have my checkbook right here,” I said, my voice cracking with nerves. I reached into my handbag, pulling out the paper booklet. I swallowed nervously as I held it up.

He slowly shook his head. No.

My stomach clenched and my lips tightened into a thin line.

“What then? What do you want?” I said quickly.

He tilted his head, as if he was just now considering what to ask for.

“More pictures,” he said, his voice coming out in a strange rasp, like he was intentionally disguising it, which made sense if he didn’t want me to know his identity. I couldn’t help but suspect it was a student of mine, someone I might recognize.

It took a moment to process what he said. More pictures? I frowned.

“What do you mean?” I said warily, frowning.

He pulled out a phone and pointed the camera at me, then quickly tapped the screen. I looked at him, confused. He’d taken another picture of me, sitting on the bed.

“Stand up,” he stood up straighter as he spoke. I wasn’t sure what to do. I stood up slowly, my legs were still a bit shaky.

He was leaning against the door, six or seven feet away, camera pointed towards me.

“Strip,” he rasped.

I let out a short nervous laugh.

“What?” I asked, not believing what he just said. I was like a deer in headlights.

“Strip,” he repeated the command, stronger this time in his odd rasping voice.

“No,” I said reflexively, letting out another disbelieving scoff, crossing my arms across my body.

He shrugged, then started typing something on his phone. He turned it around and I could see the original photo of me and David sitting in an email attachment.

“Wait! Don’t-” I held up my hand, as if I could will him to put the phone down. He stopped, and I pulled my hand back and covered my mouth. I didn’t think my heart could pound any harder than when he’d first walked in, but it was at that moment.

I gritted my teeth and looked down, not wanting to look at him.

“Strip,” he said again. I stared at the blue-gray carpet, trying to swallow, but my mouth wouldn’t work. I froze, overwhelmed with panic. I needed to buy more time, but I couldn’t think of anything that would stop him. Except of course, following his orders.

The next thing I knew my hands were shakily heading towards my top. I could feel my face getting hot. The knot in my stomach twisted.

I unbuttoned my blouse. My breathing was ragged. I felt like I was going to choke on the lump in my throat. My eyes were blurred with tears as I pulled my top off, exposing my bra to this disgusting man. I stopped there, too nervous and horrified to go further.

“Please, I’ll pay you, whatever you want, please,” I pleaded, trying to put a stop to this terrible situation. He shook his head again. No. I stared at him, lips pressed into a thin line, trying desperately to think of something else to offer him.

“More,” he said, jolting me out of my head. I grimaced and felt tears rolling down my cheeks.

I stepped out of my shoes, and pulled the green knee length skirt I was wearing to the floor. I looked up at him, covering my exposed bra and panties as best I could with my hands.

“More,” he commanded.

I stared at him in a fury. Anger and shame welled up in me. I could feel my scalp tingling, the blood rushing to my head.

I unhooked my bra and let it fall to the floor. I quickly covered my breasts with my hands and looked back down at the carpet. My face was screwed up with rage at what I was being forced to do.

“Panties.”

I looked up and saw he had his phone back up. It looked like he was filming a video. I frowned and felt more tears fall as I let go of my breasts and quickly pulled my panties off. I stood up straight, and draped one arm across my chest. I held my other hand against my dark brown pubic hair, trying to hide my naked body from the camera as best I could.

“You’re sick, you know that? A sick, twisted man,” I spat the insult at him as a bubble of anger pushed away my shock.

He seemed to take it in stride, not breaking his gaze as he stared hungrily at my nude form.

“Touch yourself.”

The fear and shame returned. My skin was hot and prickly, it felt like my whole body was blushing. The tunnel vision returned and I looked down at my hand resting over the hair above my vagina.

I cringed, then moved my fingers down and rubbed my clitoris. My vision blurred further as more tears welled up. I felt nothing as I circled my fingers across my sex, only shame and humiliation.

I kept moving my fingers, praying for this all to end. How had I let it get this far? I should have gone to the police. I need to stop this, I need to-

He put his phone away, no longer filming my awkward pretend masturbation. I saw him unbutton his pants. The blood pounding in my ears made the familiar unzip of jeans sound like it was coming from underwater.

He whipped his cock out. It was long and already straining, rock hard. I grimaced at the awful obscene sight of it bobbing up and down. He wrapped his hand around the shaft and started stroking, masturbating right in front of me.

“Keep going,” the sudden order snapped me out of my stupor. I went back to massaging my clit, and I felt a glimmer of hope. The end was in sight. He’d finish, and this horrible nightmare would end.

He settled into a rhythm, his hand wrapped around his dick. I tried to look away, but the bulging head pointed towards me and the rapid pumping of his arm kept drawing my attention, like a rip in a piece of fabric.

It didn’t take long for him to cum. He let out an animal grunt, and I felt a terrible betrayal from my own body as a small burst of pleasure radiated out from underneath my fingers. My clit stiffened with arousal as I watched his cum shoot out towards me. Thick streaming jets of white semen splattered on the carpet a few feet away.

A fresh wave of disgust and anger welled up inside me, washing the pleasure away as quickly as it came. He stood there, breathing hard through his ski mask, staring at my naked body. I looked down at the white globs of cum, rapidly turning clear as they clung to the blue carpet fibers.

“Stay five minutes. Check your email,” he said after catching his breath. He grabbed a tissue from the table near the door, cleaning off his cum-covered hand before tossing it on the carpet. After that, he opened the door and walked out without another word.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I collapsed onto the bed and curled up into a ball. I laid there, naked, my whole body numb with shock, staring at his cum on the floor. Minutes passed, but it felt like I was on that bed for hours. Time seemed to slow down.

I heard a chime from the floor. I looked down into my handbag and saw my phone screen lit up. I picked it up instinctually. As soon as I felt it’s weight, I froze. The familiar device in my hand made me realize this wasn’t some nightmare. It was real. I had let that stranger masturbate in front of me. Take a video of me. Slow wracking sobs started to build in my chest.

I let myself cry for a long time, curled up on that rough hotel blanket. My nose ran. My eyes scrunched up as the tears flowed freely and I struggled to draw breath. I started to hiccup, I was crying so hard, but I tried to stay quiet. I didn’t want anyone to hear. I couldn’t let anyone know.

Eventually, my emotions died down from that overwhelming peak. I stopped crying long enough to actually look at my phone. The clock said it was only 8:50. I had an email notification. His parting words, check your email, swirled in my head and caused a new round of tightness in my chest.

It was a message from bethanycordercheats at some free email service I didn’t recognize. It had arrived at 8:25. He must have sent it after he left. That entire encounter was only twenty minutes? It felt so much longer.

I opened the message.

SEASIDE INN. 8PM. THURSDAY. DON’T BE LATE.

I scrolled down and saw a picture attached to the message. There I was, my face bright red, looking solemn. My arm covered my nipples, and my other hand was between my legs, touching my pussy in this very room. He had angled the camera low enough that I could see hints of my labia poking out from behind my fingers. I quickly closed the message and deleted it with a groan of frustration.

I sat up, steeling myself with a deep breath, and slowly put my clothes back on. More tiny sobs hit me as I buttoned up my blouse. I went to the sink and splashed water on my face to try and calm down.

I got halfway to the front door before I looked down at the clear wet spots on the ground next to the balled up tissue. I stopped, shuddered, then picked it up with two fingers and quickly tossed it in the trash in the bathroom while grabbing a towel. I ran the towel under the sink for a moment then walked back over and tried to wipe up his cum as best I could. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone walking in and seeing it there.

I gagged a little as I finished my hasty carpet cleanup and tossed the damp towel into the bathtub. I composed myself as best I could before leaving, stepping out into the warm night air.

I had two days. I had to think.

***

I couldn’t think. I spent the next day and a half in a total daze, reliving the trauma of that night over and over again in every waking moment. I couldn’t come up with anything. No great ideas came to me. No sudden inspiration. All I could think of was the humiliation I felt in each passing moment. The horrible knowledge that for a brief moment, I’d felt the familiar heat of sexual pleasure between my legs.

Work was the only time I felt almost normal. I did my usual lectures, assigned homework, and even had office hours where I helped a few struggling students with their test prep. When I didn’t have work distracting me, that was when the memories came back to the surface. I replayed it in my head, over and over.

Strip.

More.

Touch yourself.

His cum shooting towards me. The white gobs on the carpet burned into my brain.

I tried to go to the gym to take my mind off things, and did my usual strength training routine. I attributed my slim 120 pound physique to focusing mainly on core lifts, squats, bench press, and deadlift.

I worked out at the college, so I was used to being the lone older woman surrounded by awkward adolescent guys. Luckily the football team had it’s own facilities so I didn’t have to share the squat rack with a bunch of hulking giants. This time however, I couldn’t help but look at the men there in a different light, wondering if one of them was my blackmailer. I barely did a full set of each exercise before I couldn’t stand it anymore and left early.

Wednesday passed by in a flash.

Thursday came, and I still had nothing. I felt a growing sense of dread as the hours ticked away. Five o’ clock came and went. I sat in my office, staring into space.

I walked out to my car like a robot and sat in the driver’s seat, frozen with apprehension. I started the car and drove, trying not to think, letting my mind go blank. If I went home, my life was over. I’d be fired, divorced, estranged from my family. Twenty minutes of shame, that’s all it would take, and I’d have another reprieve.

I pulled into the parking lot of the motel. Booked another room with the same clerk. I was less nervous this time, and I observed that he was clearly stoned. He handed me the keys to room 114 this time.

Everything was the same. The bed had the same floral print blanket. The same brand of tiny flatscreen TV sat on the dresser. It was 7:45. I unlocked the door and sat on the edge of the bed, nervously wringing my hands.

I still jumped in surprise when the handle turned fifteen minutes later. He walked into the room with the same ski mask. The same hoodie and jeans. We stared at each other in silence for a few moments after the door clicked shut behind him. I broke my gaze first, looking away from him and towards the floor.

I was ready to sit in silence for as long as I could, but he spoke first.

“Strip.”

The word hung in the air. I had a fleeting hope that maybe he’d ask for money this time, but it evaporated. I felt the lump in my throat return as I slowly stood up. The hot prickling on my scalp.

I was wearing a simple cream colored pantsuit today. I pulled off my jacket and undershirt with quick angry motions, throwing them forcefully on the bed, then kicked off my shoes and socks. I unbuttoned my pants next, forcing them off as fast as I could, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me slowly strip naked with tears in my eyes.

I stood facing him in my underwear, hesitating a moment before I unhooked my bra, exposing my breasts to him. I pulled off my panties and stood next to the bed completely nude, my face screwed up with anger, staring daggers.

“Touch yourself.”

I rolled my eyes at him and moved my hand between my legs. I rubbed my clitoris, the disgust plain on my face. I could see his eyes wandering across my entire body. I heard his pants unzip. I looked up at the ceiling, averting my eyes.

I stared at the beige stucco above my head, frowning as I touched my pussy, hoping he’d finish soon. I heard him groan softly in front of me, but I didn’t dare look at what he was doing.

“Knees,” he said, the unfamiliar command causing a shiver of apprehension. I looked down, and saw him, his pants pulled down around his hips, stroking his cock.

“What?” I asked, not understanding. Not wanting to understand.

He snapped his fingers at me.

“Down,” he said, slowly, and pointed at the floor like he was commanding a dog.

I looked at him with fury, but I felt a horrifying stab of arousal deep between my legs when I heard his order. The snap of his fingers, and the word echoed in my head. Down. I felt myself get wet, and a new rush of shame and nausea at my body’s reaction overtook me.

I held the bed, hesitating a moment, before using it to lower myself down onto my knees. I clamped my legs together and hugged myself, covering my breasts with my arms. I was sitting on my heels, trying desperately not to think about what he wanted me to do next.

I tried to look back up at the ceiling to distract myself, but I could still see him pull off his pants. He had boxer shorts on, and his cock poked out the front flap. He took a step closer. Another. I could see him standing closer to me, and I moved my eyes down to the carpet instead of the ceiling so I wouldn’t have to see his ski-mask covered face.

I looked up with a nervous furtive glance and saw his cock a few feet away from me at head level, straining and angry. He pulled his boxers down, freeing his penis completely, and I saw his tangle of dark brown pubic hair. I knew he had brown hair now, which didn’t exactly narrow things down, but it was something.

I prayed he wouldn’t come any closer, that he was a strange voyeur who only got off on watching. Stay there. Stay there. Stay there. Please stay there. No, please- He stepped even closer. He was so close I could see the little ridges and veins of his penis as it wobbled with each small movement. Cocks always looked so much bigger up close, and his was no exception.

“No, dont,” I said, trembling, trying to shrink away from him, to make myself smaller. My back pressed into the side of the bed, blocking my retreat. Before I knew what was happening he grabbed my hair and held me in place, stopping me from crawling away.

It was the first time he’d actually laid a hand on me, and let out a small yelp of surprise at the contact. He pulled and tilted my head back with a deceptively strong grip, pointing my face upwards to make me look at his rock hard cock looming over me.

He held me there, unmoving, pulling my hair with a gentle yet forceful pressure. I felt another horrible tingling shot of pleasure radiate up from between my legs as he kept me there like a misbehaving pet.

“Suck,” he growled, and pushed his hips forward. His cock touched my face and I felt the springy flesh poking into my cheek. I grimaced, letting out an involuntary groan of disgust. I tried to turn away as much as I could with his fingers painfully gripping my hair. He twisted his hips, following my face, and the head of his penis slapped against my lips. I kept them closed and tried again to turn my head away from his cock, but he pulled my hair harder and I gasped with the sudden jolt of pain.

As soon as my mouth opened, I felt his cock worm its way in past my lips. He shoved it further in with a quick forceful thrust, and I had no choice except to open wider, stretching out my jaw to accommodate his girth.

“Don’t bite,” he warned me, still holding my hair. I groaned pitifully, looking down at the base of his shaft sticking halfway out of my mouth. I closed my eyes and felt him slide it deeper in. He pulled back, then thrust, back, thrust, and soon he was slowly fucking my mouth. My groaning turned into soft whimpers as I felt his cock head roughly sliding along my tongue.

I opened my eyes, trying to distract myself from the sensation. I could see his pubic hair inches from my nose, and I quickly darted my eyes away, past him, trying to find something, anything. The curtains. Look at the curtains. They were heavy blackout panels with thick fabric. Thick like the huge cock in my mouth. The thought bubbled to the surface, and I forced it away.

I studied the curtains, focused my eyes on them in the distance, ignoring the blurry dark pink thing forcing itself into my face. They were maroon, probably polyester. Functional. They seemed older than the rest of the decor. I felt myself relax slightly as I traced each fold and wrinkle in the fabric with my eyes.

I tried to ignore the feeling of soft skin grinding against my lips, the smell of his sweat, the saliva dribbling off my bottom lip. It had all happened so suddenly, so forcefully. My brain felt like it was half shut down. I couldn’t believe I’d put up so little resistance to this, this-

His cock hit the back of my throat and I gagged. My vision snapped back, the shaft sticking out of my mouth came into focus. Suddenly I was aware of his grunting, it was getting louder, more intense. I felt his grip on my hair tighten. No, don’t-

Warm cum flooded into my mouth. The thick fluid felt like raw egg whites coating the back of my tongue. I felt another strong burst of arousal, a wet heat deep in my vagina. My clitoris stiffened and pulsed, and my thighs clenched together on their own accord. His cum started to drip down my throat and I swallowed instinctually, which triggered another spark of pleasure between my legs.

I moaned. I tried to hold it back, to keep quiet, but I couldn’t keep it in. The situation was a nightmare come true, and yet, I couldn’t stop my body from reacting differently.

He held his cock still as I kept swallowing, tasting the familiar tingling flavor of semen all over my mouth, like I was smelling bleach mixed with saltwater, but somehow pleasant. The pleasure between my legs built as I kneeled there, my lips wrapped tight around his shaft.

He slowly pulled his cock out of my mouth and let go of my hair. I worked my jaw closed as soon as I was free, letting out a gasp for air that turned into another small moan of relief. I fell forward and looked down at the carpet, horrified at myself for feeling those small twinges of arousal. Why had I swallowed his cum? I regretted doing it already. I should have spat it out. I felt a new wave of anger build in me at what he’d done to me, at what he’d made me feel.

I was dimly aware of him tucking his half hard dick back into his underwear and zipping up his pants. He silently walked to the door, then stopped with his hand on the knob.

“Five minutes. Check your email,” he said quietly, then walked out, leaving me naked on the floor.

I cried again, the hot shameful tears spilling over my cheeks as I rocked back and forth on the floor, my arms wrapped around my knees protectively.

I heard my phone chime again, and rushed to grab it.

TUESDAY. SEASIDE INN. 8PM.

Four days.

***

“You ok, mom?”

The question shook me out of my stupor. It was Sunday. I realized I had been staring at this stupid wildlife camera for twenty minutes, lost in my own thoughts. The memories of last week had played in my head over and over for the past few days. I looked up at my son, Kyl, and tried to look unconcerned.

“Yes, I’m fine, honey. I’m just trying to get this camera working! It’s driving me crazy,” I smiled at him, pushing down the pain I was feeling. He’d grown up a lot these past few years, turning into a handsome young man. Paul said he took after him, but I always thought he reminded me of my father, his grandfather. He had my same dark brown hair, and my father’s strong brow and straight jaw. Kyl was 19 years old, and already a Sophomore in college. The time had passed so quickly.

We’d grown somewhat distant the past year, and I didn’t understand why. My son and I had always been thick as thieves. He used to come to me to talk about everything. I remember we’d do jigsaw puzzles together and he’d tell me all about school, his friends, books, movies, anything that crossed his mind. Now, he spent most of his time with his new college friends. I didn’t want to begrudge him for hanging out with people his own age, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss our old relationship.

“You want me to take a look at it?” Kyl asked me, trying to be helpful.

“Could you? I cannot get it to show up on my phone,” I pushed the little device over towards him.

“Why are you setting up a wildlife camera anyways?” He asked me, curious. I felt a hint of tightness in my throat.

“I saw some tracks in the backyard, I was worried it might be raccoons and I wanted to make sure they’re not getting into the trash,” I practiced the lie in my head before, but I still felt my face get warm. Luckily, Kyl was already reading the manual and pressing buttons and didn’t see my embarrassment.

I had come up with a plan over the weekend. I knew my blackmailer wanted to hide his identity, which meant if I could discover who he was, I might have some kind of leverage. What that leverage might be, I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t sit around and do nothing. So, I’d bought a portable night vision camera normally used for taking pictures of animals out in the wild.

I’d have to go to the Seaside Inn early and set it up somewhere, then pray he walked by it without the mask on. It was a longshot, but it was the only idea I had without serious downsides if I was caught. Low risk, high reward.

“There, I think I got it working, see?” Kyl showed me his phone, and I saw a picture of us from below taken by the little camera on the kitchen counter.

“How did you do that? Let me see,” I smiled at him and looked at his phone.

“It’s easy, mom, you press this here, then this. Do you want me to just put it on your phone?” He smiled at me, shaking his head at my ineptitude with technology.

“No, no, I don’t want to have to bother you ever time I need to use it, show me again,” I held up my phone next to his and he walked me through the steps again until I saw the picture appear on my screen.

“Hey! It worked! Thank you, sweetie!” I gave him a quick hug and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him on the forehead, feeling him squirm with embarrassment as I fiddled with the app on my phone.

I absentmindedly let him go, and he laughed and walked back to the living room.

“I’m going to the store, do you want me to get you anything?” I called after him. He turned around, thinking.

“Actually, I wanted to get some snacks, you mind if I come with you?” He asked, and I froze. I was planning on going to the Seaside Inn and setting up the camera in the daytime. I shouldn’t have even said anything about the store. I quickly tried to think up another excuse.

“Oh, um, I’m going to go to the gym first, sorry. I meant I was going to stop at the store on the way back.”

“That’s ok, I can get something later, not sure what I want,” Kyl said with a shrug. I relaxed and let out a tiny sigh of relief.

“I’ll get you something,” I said reassuringly as I grabbed my purse, “I love you, honey!”

“Love you too, mom!” He called back at me as I head out the door.

It was strange driving up to the Seaside Inn during the day. I parked on the road nearby and walked into the lot, not wanting to draw attention. It was unseasonably warm, and the sun beat down on me as I methodically walked on the gray asphalt towards the long flat building with its bank of white doors. I saw room 114, and a shudder passed through me.

I was still in denial about what had happened there, a few short days ago. Intellectually, I knew it was rape. I’d sat through enough freshman orientations to recognize that. Except, in my head I kept remembering the moan I’d let out. The arousal. The wet heat between my legs as I sucked and swallowed.

I reached the end of the walkway and saw there was an empty lot behind the building, ending in a row of sparse trees blocking another side road on the other side of a small ditch. There were a few scattered houses nearby, spaced far apart with large unkempt yards. I saw a path leading through the lot, the yellowing weeds trampled flat by people cutting across. I walked along it, curious, and a few minutes later I was next to the row of trees. There was a raised section of the ditch, and I stepped across and found myself on that deserted side road.

I smiled to myself. This had to be where he came from. He couldn’t park in the motel lot, it was too exposed. Here, he could walk along the path, turn a corner, and be a few yards from the walkway to each room entrance. I walked back towards the motel along the path, stopping halfway and planting the camera in a small cluster of dry brush.

I spent about twenty minutes walking back and forth along the path, testing that the camera snapped a picture of me each time I passed by. I checked on my phone and saw a clear picture of myself. It automatically synced through the app Kyl helped me install earlier. Satisfied, I walked back to my car, hopeful for the first time in days that I might be able to stop this nightmare.

***

Tuesday came far too soon. Once again I found myself filled with dread about what was coming. What I might have to endure this time. The only thing that kept me going was the slim hope that I’d catch him on that path. That I could find out who he was and turn the tables somehow.

My head was full of those hopeful thoughts as I made the drive to the Seaside Inn. It was already 7pm, I was cutting it close this time. The clerk gave me room 112 again. I steeled myself as I stepped into the room. I couldn’t see any stains on the carpet, but I still stepped carefully, avoiding the spots that I’d cleaned up last week. Remembering his cum on the floor sent another chill through me.

I went to the curtain and peeked out, trying see down the walkway as far as I could without opening the drapes more than a sliver. My heart leapt into my throat as I saw him come into view. He was already wearing the mask, moving quickly, and coming from the direction where I’d planted the camera. I felt a surge of hope, but I knew it would all be for nothing if he simply wore the mask the whole walk over.

I quickly rushed over to the bed, letting the curtain drop, and moments later I saw the doorknob turn. He strode in and clicked the door shut behind him. I grimaced and looked away from his masked form. I could feel his eyes burning into me from across the room.

“Strip,” he spoke after what felt like an eternity. I was expecting it this time, and I quickly disrobed. I was in a similar pantsuit as last time, but I wasn’t feeling the same level of righteous anger as before. I tossed my blazer and top aside, and casually stepped out of my slacks before unhooking my bra. My nipples stiffened slightly as I peeled off my gray and pink striped panties.

I frowned and tried to cover myself with my hands as best I could, pressing my thighs together to hide my sex. He stared for a while, like he was drinking in my discomfort, then pulled a piece of black fabric from his jacket pocket and tossed it to me. I caught it instinctually, and at first I thought it might be a pair of panties, but as I unfolded it I realized it was a black sleep mask, like you’d wear on an airplane.

“Wear it,” he rasped as I pulled it open. I swallowed nervously, then clenched my jaw and snapped it over my head, giving him one last furious glare before my eyes were covered by the soft material.

I was naked, blindfolded, squeezing my thighs together as tight as I could. My shoulders hunched forward, trying to make myself small. I heard his footsteps come closer. I gritted my teeth when I felt his finger make contact near my clavicle. He had a light touch, tracing it along my neck, back and forth. I shivered at the contact, sneering at him as best I could.

He continued tracing, then stopped in the center and moved downwards, his finger making a soft line between my breasts. It kept going, hitting my belly button, then further down. I hated how slow he was going, as if he could negate his unwanted touch by turning it into a sensual experience. His finger met the light hairs above my pussy and stopped. He lingered there, making small motions at the top of my small dark brown curl of pubic hair.

I braced myself for him to go lower, to touch me there, but he didn’t. After what felt like an eternity, he moved his finger back up, tracing the same pattern across the center of my torso before stopping at my neck. He traced down again, but at a slight angle this time. I felt his finger graze the side of my breast as it made its way down my body. Once again he reached my pubic hair and stopped, like he was savoring the feel of it. He moved back up, and I felt a small deliberate push against my breast as he moved past it.

He was at my neck again, and then down, at a sharper angle. He moved slowly, deliberately, and I felt his single finger touch the top of my chest. The soft flesh of my breast gave way to the pressure. A few moments later he made contact with my areola. He slowed down even more, increasing the pressure, and I felt my nipple stiffen as his fingertip finally made contact. I gritted my teeth as a spark of unwanted pleasure rippled out through my breast.

His finger pulled my nipple down slightly, and it popped back up like a spring when he finally released it and continued onward. I barely noticed when he moved across the muscles in my abdomen and back to my groin. I felt the familiar tickle of his finger in my bush.

The anger inside me was like a roaring bonfire. I wanted to slap him, cry out, anything, but all I could do was stand there obediently as his finger moved back up along my body. He reached the underside of my breast and lifted it up as he traveled. I felt it drop down, and a brief moment later he was touching my nipple again.

The arousal blew through me like a gust of wind, briefly smothering the fire of anger inside me. All I could think was how good it felt. I choked back a gasp, and his finger continued upwards. The anger returned, renewed, the gust of arousal feeding it like a true fire.

“Bastard,” I said under my breath.

His finger paused at the base of my neck.

“Sit,” he rasped in a commanding tone. I squeezed my legs together tighter, and felt another twinge of unwanted arousal. I fumed, both at him and at my body for reacting how it did, with a flash of heat and wetness between my legs when he commanded me like a dog.

I sat down on the bed.

His hands touched my shoulders, and I pulled inwards, instinctually shying away from the contact, but he maintained a light grip and followed along. He held my shoulders, then slowly moved his hands along my torso, grazing his fingertips along my skin until he reached my tits.

He teased them, barely making contact with the soft edges, the rounded slopes, pressing, testing, steadily increasing the urgency of his touch. I felt his palms surround my nipples, his fingers squeezing my chest, massaging my breasts in slow circles. I couldn’t see him, only feel his touch, his skin on mine.

My breasts bounced and swayed as he played with them like a child with a new toy. He lifted them, pushed them together, cupped them, and flicked my nipples. It almost became too much to bear, but he expanded his touching before that happened, running his hands along the subtle hourglass curve of my hip.

Soon his hands were traveling further, past my hips and to the tops of my thighs, then all the way back to my breasts for another round of play. He was driving me wild, pinching and pulling my nipples, then slowly moving his touch up my neck. His fingers brushed against my cheek, and I instinctually turned my face towards them, letting my lips make light contact with his hand.

I felt a sudden strong push at my sternum, and I fell backwards, laying on the bed. I tried to keep my legs clamped together, but his hands quickly ran down my entire body, all the way to my knees. He forced them open with a terrible ease.

A sudden sinking sensation hit me. No, please. No, no, no- I had been lulled by his long slow touches, and the blindfold. Not seeing his ski mask covered face had made me relax, made me forget who I was dealing with. I remembered then, as he pried my legs apart, and felt a terrible helplessness. He was going to rape me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I prayed to God. I begged silently for salvation from this horrible nightmare.

“Don’t, please-” I said, my voice sounded small and pitiful to my own ears.

I felt my labia open up as he spread my legs apart. The sensitive inner folds of my pussy laid bare.

“No, no no no,” I pleaded again and again. His hands moved up along the soft skin of my inner thighs. They brushed against the small hairs surrounding my vulva, and I heard a rustle of some kind. He was shifting, moving somehow, but I couldn’t see. I felt my pussy spread wider as his hands framed my outer lips and opened them up.

I felt something press against my labia. Something soft and wet. It moved up and down my slit, and I gasped at the unfamiliar contact. It took me a moment to realize what it was.

His tongue. He was licking my pussy. I felt it glide along the outside of my sex, circling around the edges as his hands held me steady.

“Aah- god- damn you, don’t, please,” I bit back a cry of pleasure as his tongue reached my clitoris. I tried to turn it into another insult, another plea to stop, anything other than what it truly was. He moved away and I felt a small bit of relief, but his tongue was back a moment later, licking the lips of my outer labia.

He kissed me, down there, his lips meeting mine in a wet embrace. I had a fleeting realization that he must have lifted his ski mask. I brought my hands to my face, and surreptitiously lifted the blindfold a crack.

I looked down and saw him, his head buried between my legs, but he was still wearing the mask. I couldn’t see his mouth, it was latched onto my pussy, and I had to quickly snap the blindfold back when I saw his eyes dart upwards.

My body tensed with a new shiver of fear. Had he seen me? He never explicitly told me not to look, but I couldn’t take the chance. His mouth pulled back. I braced myself for some kind of retaliation, but a moment later I felt his tongue again, lower down, right at the entrance to my vagina. He probed it, pressing inwards, forcing me open. I squirmed as his tongue penetrated me, the strange foreign appendage wriggling between my legs.

The sensation changed as he slowly circled inside my entrance, and I felt another unwanted flood of arousal deep inside me. My hips bucked upwards on their own, letting him intrude further inside me. Another burst of anger flared up in me, and I clenched the muscles in my vagina. His tongue was forcibly expelled by the sudden tightening, but another terrible wave of pleasure swept over me as my muscles relaxed.

“Stop,” I repeated softly, but it was for nothing. He ran a finger up and down my slit, wetting it, then slid it inside me with an agonizing slowness. I tried to clench again, to stop him from pushing further inside, but it was no use. He overpowered me, burying his finger as deep as it would go in my vagina. I could feel it, wedged inside me, penetrating my most private place.

I shuddered again as his tongue returned to my clitoris. He gently put pressure on it, a circular massage building in intensity with each passing moment.

“Please, stop, please,” I begged pitifully, and grimaced as a strong shock of pleasure radiated outwards from my clit. God, I hated him. I hated how he was making me feel.

“Ah- ah- Don’t-” I kept pleading as he kneaded my clit with his tongue. His finger curled upwards, slowly rocking in and out, causing more shocks of pleasure.

I could feel something building inside me, the pleasure would reach a plateau, then break through, then another, and another. The hate built with it. I hated him. I hated myself. I hated my body for what it was doing, what it was feeling.

I writhed on the bed, the consistent pressure of his tongue and fingers pushing me close to orgasm.

“Stop- Ah! Stop! Ughh- Please- Don’t- Ahhh,” I choked out the words between involuntary gasps and grunts. My hips rocked into him, pushing his finger deeper, his tongue closer.

Something broke in me. I couldn’t hold it back. I could feel it coming. Cumming. I was so close. I was almost there.

“Please- Aah, please,” my protests got softer as I got closer. My mind went blank. All the anger and fear and loathing melted away, replaced by animal lust. I wanted it. I needed it. I let go. I surrendered to him.

“Please, don’t stop- Ah- Don’t stop! Aughh- Don’t stooo- Ahhhhhhhh!”

Every inch of my body tensed. My pussy lit up like a firework, an explosion of pure bliss rocketing across my abdomen. The tips of my toes curled. My face contorted into an ugly sneer as the orgasm crashed through my entire body. I groaned, loud and obscene, while he sucked my clitoris, his mouth riding the spasms rocking my entire lower half.

I was reduced to a blind quivering husk, dazed and lost to the physical sensations. I gasped again when his finger pulled out of me and his lips released their grip on my labia. My breath came out in short, ragged jolts. I kept feeling more waves rock through me, aftershocks of pleasure rolling across my skin.

Hints of noise broke through my reverie. A quiet consistent rustle, then masculine grunting, groaning. Something warm and wet splattered across my breasts, and I flinched, confused about what hit me. I was so dazed, it took me a second to realize what was happening.

He was cumming on me. I should have been disgusted, but instead another strong orgasmic aftershock rushed through me. I felt more thick droplets of semen splash across my tits and stomach. God, he’d covered me with it.

I reached up and instinctually tried to wipe it off. Feeling the sticky wetness of it on my hand pulled me out of my daze. All the anger welled up deep inside me, but it was tempered, distant, replaced by an overwhelming sense of self-loathing.

What had I done? I’d practically begged him. Pleaded with him to keep going, to keep raping me with his mouth and fingers. I was a horrible person. I deserved this. I deserved to be treated like this. I’d cheated, lied, and been a slave to my own desires, and now, this was my punishment.

I pulled my legs up onto the bed, curling into a protective ball. I laid there, unmoving, a stream of negative thoughts racing through my head. I dimly heard the door click shut. He must have left. I could feel his cum drying on my skin, little droplets running down the sides of my breasts. I didn’t bother cleaning myself off.

I deserved this. I felt the tears welling up underneath the blindfold. I let out a few choked sobs.

It was almost worse than when he’d forced himself into my mouth. I had righteous anger on my side then, sustaining me, giving me the strength to endure. Now, I had nothing. He’d broken me, made me want it. Made me want him.

Eventually, I mustered the strength to sit up and weakly remove the blindfold. I looked down at my body and saw the clear shiny streaks on my skin. Evidence of how he’d defiled me. I shuddered and grimaced with disgust. I slowly got up and walked into the tiny motel bathroom, turned on the shower, and sat down in the tub. I held my knees to my chest and let the water wash away my shame.

I hauled myself out of the shower after a few minutes and dried off. I was staring into the mirror holding the cheap motel blow dryer next to my hair when I remembered the camera. I took a deep breath, a glimmer of my old self returning. I had to pull myself together. To keep going with the plan. If I could find out who he was, I might be able to stop this, to go back to some kind of normal life.

I got dressed and walked out into the pitch black empty lot behind the motel, using my phone flashlight to stick to the path of trampled yellow grass and dirt. I reached the spot where I’d planted the camera, went into the app and synced the pictures. My eyes went wide when I saw the thumbnails appear in the gallery.

He was there, multiple pictures. I clicked the first one and my heart sank. He was walking along the path wearing his ski mask. It was all for nothing. I scrolled to the next image and saw him again.

My blood went cold. He was leaning over the camera, still masked, waving at it. How? How had he known?

I gritted my teeth in frustration as I stared at his raised hand. He was mocking me. I thought I was so clever, and somehow he was already one step ahead. I yanked the camera out of the ground and stomped back to my car.

I screamed on the drive home. Despair, frustration and anger spilling out of me like a toxic waste. I reached my house and walked inside only to see Paul stepping through the hallway to kitchen.

“You’re home late,” Paul said offhandedly.

“My TA quit. Didn’t I tell you? I never would have assigned all these written exams and homework if I’d known I’d be grading them alone for half a semester,” my voice barely cracked from all the groaning and screaming I’d done tonight as I spun the lie.

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” he said sympathetically. “Are you going to be grading more tomorrow too? I was going to barbecue up some steaks for all of us.”

“I think I’ll be free tomorrow, but I’m not sure about later in the week,” I said, taking a deep breath.

“Alright,” he nodded and walked into the kitchen.

I headed towards the stairs up to my bedroom, catching a glimpse of Kyl glancing towards me from the living room. He looked at me with an unusual intensity, but I brushed it off, too focused on getting to a safe space where I could collect myself.

My heart sank as I glanced at my phone when I reached the top of the stairs. Another email.

THURSDAY. 8PM. SEASIDE INN. NICE CAMERA.

***

I can’t keep doing this.

The thought repeated in my head, day after day, hour after hour, until Thursday came. My insides felt like they were made of stone when I parked in the dark motel lot. I had to do something.

I booked a room and trudged down the open air hallway like it was to my execution. I walked inside, dropped my purse, carefully took off my shoes and sat down on the bed. I stared at the carpet, defeated, resigned to whatever horrible fate he had in store for me this time. The clock read 7:58.

He entered at 8pm sharp. I didn’t bother looking up from the floor. I stared downwards, stone faced.

“Strip,” his voice hit me like a physical slap. I cringed, but then slowly stood up and undressed with clumsy mechanical movements. My entire body blushed. I shook like a leaf with each new article of clothing I dropped to the floor.

“Turn around,” he barked his order a few moments after I’d stepped out of my panties. I dropped them on the floor next to me on top of my small pile of garments and turned around. I heard his footsteps come up behind me then stop, inches away.

His fingers slid up my back, reaching my shoulder-length brown hair, combing through it with a disturbing gentleness. Suddenly, he seized a handful and painfully jerked my head back, bending my neck towards him.

“Ah!” I let out a tiny cry of shock and pain.

He tightened his grip on my hair and pushed me forward, bending me over the bed at a slight angle. His other hand grabbed my naked ass with a rough squeeze.

“Trying to spy on me?” He hissed into my ear menacingly. I moaned pitifully, halfway between a sob and a whimper.

It turned into another cry of pain as he spanked me hard with his free hand. The stinging impact sent me reeling. I tried to squirm away towards the bed but he held me firm by the hair.

He pulled his hand back, and a moment later I felt another hard painful slap on my other ass cheek. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision.

“Ah! Ow! Ahh!” I yelped, as more rough slaps impacted my smooth bare ass.

Smack! Smack!

A horrible heat built between my legs while he spanked me like a naughty child. His blows subsided after a moment, but the pain continued, a sharp burning across my ass cheeks.

I’d never been spanked like that before. It was a sudden burst of violence, backed by strong muscles. He didn’t hold back, or pull his blows. They were meant to hurt me, but somehow that untamed power made it a thousand times more arousing than a light playful touch.

Before I could even recover from the shock of it all, his fingers groped between my legs. He ran his hand up and down my pussy with a rough, uncaring urgency. I gasped at the sudden contact. I stared at the ceiling, my head locked in place by his strong grip on my hair.

My mouth opened wide and I let out a shuddering moan of pleasure when his fingers found my entrance, wet and ready. He slid two inside me without any hesitation. He pulled his hand upwards, his palm digging into my clitoris, and nearly lifted me off the ground with the force of his penetration.

I didn’t even bother to stifle my moans anymore. His fingers thrust in and out, fast and hard, sending tense shivers of sexual pleasure up my spine. I spread my thighs, letting him push deeper inside me. The combination of the stinging pain still lingering on my ass and the pleasure of his fingers was sending my body into overdrive.

I was already getting close, but as suddenly as he began, he stopped. He pulled his fingers out of me, slow and wet. He let go of my hair and pushed my shoulders down from behind, forcing me onto the bed.

I heard his pants unzip.

Oh god.

He held me down, my breasts mashed into the cool motel blanket, and I felt the unmistakable sensation of his cock poking between my thighs. He repositioned, and the soft head of his penis teased my entrance, running up and down my slit.

Oh god. I gripped the blanket beneath me, bracing myself in anticipation.

He pushed and his cock quickly overcame the natural friction of my skin, sliding into my vagina in one slow powerful thrust.

Oh god!

I felt every agonizing inch of it stretch me out and fill me up with a terrible perfection. My mind was horrified. My body was in heaven. It felt like he was made for me. God, his cock, it was incredible! It was big, but not painful, reaching just the right depth, putting pressure on all the right places.

“Auuhhh,” I let out a low moan as he pushed further in. His hips bumped into my ass as he completed his intrusion, burying himself inside me as far as he could go, taking me as his own.

He stopped there, both of us breathing heavily. A moment later, his hips pulled back, and then forward. I let out another moan, the perfect feeling repeated again as he thrust back inside me, the bliss of his cock radiating through my entire being.

I couldn’t stop moaning as he slowly fucked me. It was like an uncontrollable physical reaction, a muffled groan escaping my lips each time I felt his cock fill me, again and again. The rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the backs of my naked thighs added to my arousal, the urgency of it, that he was fucking me without even bothering to pull his pants down.

He picked up the pace, and I heard his own grunting join mine. He pistoned in and out of me, smooth and deep, and the pleasure built to a level I didn’t think was possible. My eyes rolled back in my head. I couldn’t remember the last time a cock inside me felt this good. I almost never orgasmed from penetration alone, but he was already getting me close.

Hot tears welled up in my eyes as a maelstrom of emotions swirled in my head. I was being raped, violated in the most intimate way by a complete stranger, and it felt physically better than any sex I’d had in my entire life. It was better than my husband, better than David, better than I’d ever imagined sex could feel.

It was utterly devastating, realizing how much my body was craving him. My legs trembled and vibrated, my mouth hung open while I groaned each time he filled my vagina with his cock. I never had any fantasies about being raped, it did nothing but horrify me, the idea of some pig of a man forcing himself on me sent chills down my spine. In the back of my mind I still felt that terror and disgust, but now it was all drowned out by the unfathomable pleasure he was inflicting upon my body as he fucked me from behind.

Suddenly, he stopped thrusting, and slowly pulled out of my pussy. I almost screamed at him, urging him to keep going, a repeat of my shameful actions last time, but I managed to bite my tongue.

He grabbed one side of my body with both hands and lifted, flipping me onto my back. I looked up at him, ski mask still covering his face, and quickly turned my head, my cheeks flushed with shame and arousal.

Even though I turned away, my eyes were drawn down to his cock, standing at attention, slick with my own juices, swinging in the air as he positioned himself between my legs. He reached down and pulled my thighs up, spreading them out around him before he drilled back into me with that perfect dick.

I tilted my head back and groaned again as he entered from this new angle. It let him get even deeper, his cock stimulating my swollen pussy even further. My legs were splayed out in an obscene V-formation, and I opened myself up wide to accept him as far as he could go.

His hips ground into mine, and he fucked me harder and harder, holding my thighs in the air and pounding me into oblivion. My moans got louder and faster, turning into animalistic squeals and grunts as his cock pleasured me in ways I didn’t know were possible.

The squishing, slapping sound of him fucking me assaulted my ears. I could smell his sweat, oddly familiar, as he loomed over me. He looked like a burglar in a bad home security commercial with the ski mask covering his face, clothes disheveled and teeth bared as he pumped up and down on top of me.

God, he was going to make me cum. The realization made a spark of anger flare up inside me. I couldn’t let him get away with this. I had to do something, anything. A desperate plan entered my mind.

One quick movement was all it would take, and I could tear the ski mask right off his head. I had to time it right, or else he might see it coming and overpower my arm. He had to be at his most vulnerable. If he moved, or changed positions, my window would close.

A horrible filthy thought flashed through my brain. I could feel his thrusts getting stronger, more urgent. My back arched upwards as another rolling wave of bliss rocked through my body. Vulnerable. Can’t let him move.

I had to make sure he didn’t pull out. I told myself it was for my plan, but deep down I knew that was only half true. I wanted to snatch the mask off and reveal his identity, but I also wanted to feel that perfect cock twitching inside me. Squirting hot cum into my pussy, filling me up in every way he could.

I steeled myself and spoke before I could lose my nerve.

“Ahhh- Cum- Cum inside me,” I choked out the words between my moans, my tone quiet and pleading.

As soon as I said it, I knew I was going to cum. There was no stopping it anymore. The only question was if I could hold my orgasm at bay long enough for him to do it first. I swallowed, trying to clear my throat to speak again, to make him do it, to make him give it to me. Oh god, I wanted it so badly-

“Ah- Let me feel your cum! Please, please, cum in me- Ahhhhhh!” I said forcefully, my moans getting louder, more insistent.

He started grunting, deep and angry. He was losing control, pounding me with wild abandon, that perfect cock stimulating every last nerve ending in my pussy. Oh god he’s doing it, it’s happening-

“Aughhh,” he groaned, and pushed one final time, burying himself inside me as deep as he could go. My entire body contracted in bliss, and my mouth hung open when I felt him filling me up. He kept fucking me as he orgasmed, the warm cum lubricating my pussy, pushing it up into my cervix.

“Oh god, yes! Cum in me! Ahhhhhh!” I yelled, my lust taking over. An admission of how far I’d fallen.

I could feel my own orgasm arriving, the pleasure building to a terrible crescendo that was going to crash down on me at any moment. I had to do it now, before I lost control, or lost my nerve, before my body could betray me.

I wrapped my legs around his back, locking my ankles together to hold him tight against my body, then reached up as quick as I could and yanked the mask off in one savage pull, tossing it across the room.

“No!” He yelled, trying to twist away, but it was too late. For a moment all I could see was short, messy brown hair. Then he looked at me, his face full of rage and lust, and the horror of what I saw hit me moments before my orgasm.

It was my son. It was Kyl.

My little boy. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be him. My son! How, why, oh god- How could he do this?! Oh my god! Oh no-

My body tensed. My eyes went wide with shock. The pleasure was still building. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t hold it back-

I was looking straight into my son’s face when my orgasm hit, harder than any I’d ever had in my entire life. The bliss rushed through me like a dam bursting, a waterfall in spring, a gushing tightness suffusing my entire being with warmth and primal satisfaction.

I saw stars. I groaned and writhed as the horrible realizations hit me at the same time as the unimaginable pleasure.

It was my own son blackmailing me! Oh my god! What had he done?! He’d taken pictures of me naked! His own mother!

Another wave of bliss rocked through me and I twisted sideways.

Oh my god, he’d touched my breasts! He’d fingered me! He’d licked my pussy!

My eyes rolled back into my head as I spasmed on the bed. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the blanket, hanging on for dear life.

He came on my tits! Spanked my ass. Oh god, he stuck his penis in my mouth! I swallowed my son’s cum!

My orgasm kept going, and going, and going in a pounding pulsing beat synchronized to my heart. It felt like the music of heaven, my body floating in an endless paradise. I let out another moan that grew into a guttural yell, a wail of simultaneous pleasure and anguish.

My son fucked me. He fucked me! He was still inside me right now! God, my son’s cock! I could still feel him, filling me up, his cum deep inside my vagina, and I’d begged him to do it. I’d begged him! He felt so good, like he was made for me.

My pussy tightened, swelling up, gripping his shaft, milking every last drop of semen from his rigid member. I felt something break deep inside me, a new peak, almost painful in its intensity.

My vision blurred at the edges, soft white spots dotted my view, and I gasped for breath. Suddenly, it started to fade. The world came back into focus. The pleasure receded, slowly draining out of me.

My mouth hung open and my eyes filled with tears as I stared up at my son in shock. Soft relaxing sensations of bliss still lingered in me like a drug, little sparks and tingles across my skin.

We stared at each other, our bodies joined together, the aftermath of our mutual orgasms receding into memory. He pulled out, and the wet squishing sound of his half-hard cock sliding out of me sent a wave of disgust coiling through my stomach. I felt his cum leak out, trickling down towards my ass, and a lump formed in my throat.

“Kyl?! No, no, no,” I moaned softly, covering my face with my hands. I hid myself, unwilling to face the truth, and sobbed into my fingers.

“You shouldn’t have done that, mom,” Kyl said, not bothering to hide his voice. He stared at me, red-faced from exertion, but with barely a hint of shame or remorse.

I heard him zip up his jeans over my quiet crying. I couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, all I could do was gape in silent horror, peeking out past my hands.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said condescendingly. I heard the doorknob turn, and briefly had a vision of someone walking by and seeing me splayed out naked on the bed through the open door. I looked up, fearful, just in time to see him step out in the night. The door clicked shut behind him.

I felt nauseous. The lump in my throat wouldn’t go away, no matter how much I swallowed. Little droplets of his cum trickled out of me with every other sob, but I couldn’t muster the strength to do anything about it.

How could I have missed this? I’d raised a complete monster. My own son! He’d- he’d raped me.

How could he do this to me? To us? To our family? And how could I ever live with myself? After what I’d said to him? After what we’d done?

Please don’t stop! Cum inside me! Let me feel your cum!

The words echoed in my head, over and over like a lingering nightmare.

I sat up. My stomach churned. I felt saliva fill my mouth, and I rushed to the bathroom, hugging the toilet as I vomited up a thin stream of bile. I heaved again, but nothing else came out. I kneeled next to the toilet on the tile floor, naked, spitting into the porcelain bowl until the taste left my mouth.

I looked down and saw a small wet spot on the floor between my legs. Another knot of disgust stabbed through me when I realized it was more cum. God, he’d filled me up so much, it felt like it would never stop dripping out of me. I clumsily grabbed a handful of toilet paper, cleaned myself up as best I could, and wiped the rest off the floor.

I got to my feet, shaking, and managed to limp over to the sink. I rinsed out my mouth, wincing with revulsion each time I caught a glance of myself in the mirror. The horrible memory of my own words kept replaying in my head, over and over.

Don’t stop! Please don’t stop! Yes! Yes! Cum! Cum in me!

I clamped my mouth shut, swallowing hard to fight the nausea. I took a deep breath, walked over to my small pile of clothes and started to get dressed. I’d finished hooking up my bra when I looked down and saw my phone light blinking.

Another email.

TOMORROW. THE KITCHEN. 10 AM.

***

I drove home, seriously considering murder for the first time in my life. I pictured stabbing him with a chefs knife, over and over, until he was a bleeding wreck on the kitchen floor. Hitting him in the back of the head with one of my heavy teaching awards. Pushing him down the stairs, his body landing in a crumpled heap next to our front door.

I didn’t see his car when I pulled into the driveway. I walked inside, carefully, trying to be as silent as I could.

“Paul? You home?” I called out.

“Yea! You need me to carry something?” I relaxed as I heard him call back from the living room.

I walked over to him.

“No, where’s Kyl? I didn’t see his car.”

“Oh! He sent me a text, said he’s staying at a friend’s place,” Paul said with a small grin. “Wonder if it’s a new girlfriend.”

My lips pursed into a thin line.

“Let me know if he texts again,” I said, walking upstairs.

I sat down on my bed and stared into space.

I had sex with my son. He’d fucked me. My own son had fucked me.

God, what could I do? I had to do something. I paced up and down my bedroom room like a caged animal. It was Paul’s bedroom too, but at this point I thought if it as mine, given how often we slept in the same bed.

I had to leave. I couldn’t see Kyl again. Not after what happened. Except, I’d be giving up everything if he decided to retaliate. My job was one of the only things in the world that made me happy. I loved teaching, researching, I even had fun playing the stupid political games with administration, even though I complained about it constantly. It was the main reason why I hadn’t ignored the blackmail from the start.

Now, I wasn’t sure. The calculus had changed. Before, there was a chance I could make it all go away, catch the blackmailer, delete the photos, even if it was a longshot. This would never go away. If I turned him in, my son would go to jail, and the whole world would know what he’d done to me. There was no way I could let that happen. I could only run, or confront him and convince him to stop.

A terrifying thought entered my head. That maybe- Maybe I could convince him. I was his mother. I still had some power here. I could lie to Paul, say I saw him doing drugs on campus. Kick him out the house. Disown him. I had options now.

He probably didn’t want anyone to know about this either. We were in a classic state of mutually assured destruction. I let out a quiet scoff of amusement. Even this awful situation came back to economics and game theory. I could never escape it.

I realized I’d calmed down enough that the murderous thoughts I’d had before were off the table. I couldn’t do that. No matter what he did, I didn’t have it in me. He was still my son.

I also suddenly realized how exhausted I felt. The safety of being in my bedroom made the adrenaline wear off, and my body started trembling like I’d just finished a grueling workout. I curled up on the bed and passed out in my clothes.

***

It was morning when I woke, groggy and exhausted from the stress of the previous night. My blood ran cold when I saw the clock. It was already 9:30. I didn’t have classes today, so I hadn’t set my alarm. Oh god, I needed more time. I panicked and reverted to going through my usual morning routine, brushing my teeth, changing into fresh clothes.

I saw my suitcases deep in the closet as I pulled out a clean professional dress. I couldn’t run. Maybe if I hadn’t passed out like that, if I had more time to prepare, but now I couldn’t even pack in time. It was no use now. I ran downstairs. The clock was already at 9:55. He’d be here any minute. My stomach knotted and twisted. I had to try and talk to him, convince him to stop all this.

I stood on the far side of the granite-topped island in the middle of the kitchen, away from the front door. I heard a car pull into the driveway. Paul was already gone and wouldn’t be back until the late afternoon. I was alone.

The front door opened. Kyl appeared in the entryway and froze. We locked eyes. I looked at him with a new light, new understanding. He was wearing his usual plain T-shirt and jeans. All my ideas of what I might say emptied out of my head. I heard my heart pounding in my chest. I finally mustered up the courage and broke the silence.

“Why?” I said, my voice hoarse and cracked.

He shot me an incredulous look.

“Because you cheated? You lied? And I couldn’t let you get away with it? Dad might have been totally oblivious, but I’m not stupid. I couldn’t stand it, and when I came home early from that camping trip and saw you fucking that guy, I knew I had to do something,” he stepped forward, hurling the accusations.

“You raped me,” I hissed at him, the anger taking over.

“I thought you would confess,” he shrugged, “or stop showing up. Either way it was a win. You confess, and take your punishment, or I get to do something I’d fantasized about for years. Speaking of confessions, you were my first fantasy, you know? My first time masturbating, I thought of you. I didn’t understand how fucked up it was until way later, after I’d already done it a hundred times. You’re so fucking hot though, how else could I make it real? How else could I have you, except like this.”

I gripped the countertop, my eyes filling with tears as he ranted at me. I forced myself to look up at his face, but seeing him instantly brought me back to the previous night. The horrifying moment of realization that my son was inside me, and then, worse, the orgasm. The shuddering. The moaning. The thundering crash of overwhelming bliss.

“You raped me,” I repeated, trying to forget. I couldn’t forget. It kept repeating in my head, over and over. The image of his angry red face looming over me as he shot his cum inside my pussy filled my mind.

“You got off on it,” he said coldly, stalking forward like a predatory animal, “I didn’t need to hear you beg me to cum inside you to notice it, you know? You were practically fucking moaning every time I barked an order! You could have stopped it any time you wanted, but you didn’t want it to stop did you? You were so fucking thirsty for it, you kept coming back for more!”

I flinched back with embarrassment, and felt a familiar horrifying tightness between my legs. I couldn’t look at him without feeling it. Without remembering how perfect he felt inside me. He stepped forward, encroaching on my space, and I took a halting step backwards.

“So you know what mom? Here’s another order for you. Strip!”

He circled around the counter towards me as he spoke. My eyes went wide with fear, and my mouth gaped at his insane demand.

“No,” I shook my head, backing away slowly. “You can’t be serious. You can’t. I’m your god damn mother!”

I tried to look away, but my eyes were drawn back to his face. Every time, the memories flooded back. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, turning into the dull slapping sounds of his hips against my bare upturned thighs.

“We both know you want it. You wouldn’t be standing here if you didn’t. So, strip!”

I stood there, frozen, trembling. My face contorted in pain, rage, and sadness. At the same time, my thighs tensed and pushed together with a spark of arousal that was impossible to ignore. It spread through my abdomen like a creeping vine.

He took another step forward, and I backed up again, bumping into the countertop next to the stove. I looked behind me, surprised at the sudden contact at my lower back. He’d kept pace with me, boxing me into the corner of the kitchen, only stopping when he’d gotten uncomfortably close. He loomed over me, less than a foot away. I could smell him, his familiar masculine sweat, young and crisp and full of hormones. I couldn’t let this happen. I couldn’t-

“I said strip, you fucking slut,” he growled, low and dangerous, and I let out a whimper that turned into a gasp. My pussy swelled and I felt hot wetness filling my underwear.

My hands reached up, halting and numb, shocked into action by his order. My heart pounded in my chest. I felt like I was watching myself, like I wasn’t even in control of my own body. My fingers undid the top button of my blouse. Another button. Another. Oh god, what was I doing? What was I doing?

I slowly pulled it off completely and a small choked sob escaped my lips. Kyl stared at me, hungry with lust while I fumbled with my bra. I heard the soft click of the hooks coming undone.

My nipples jutted out towards him when I peeled off the cups and dropped the bra on the floor. My breath was ragged and uneven. I looked down at my feet, past my bare chest, and unbuttoned my capri pants. I wiggled my hips, pulling them off, and they fell the floor. I kicked off my shoes and stepped out of the pile of clothes.

I swallowed, still staring at the floor, hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my underwear and bent forward, peeling them off, stepping my slender legs out one at a time. Exposing my body to my own child.

I stood up straight, wearing nothing but a pair of short socks. I looked at his face, and last night’s orgasm echoed in my mind once again. My vagina filled my entire awareness. Wet. Swollen. Aching.

“Touch yourself,” he said with quiet confidence. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. His gaze ran up and down my naked body with lust. He watched my hand slowly wander between my legs, and I let out another gasp when my fingers made contact with my pussy lips.

My breathing became shallow, small inhales with each slow circle around my clitoris. I stared at him, my eyes wide, my body trembling and tensing as he watched his mother masturbate. I settled into a rhythm, relaxing, suppressing the voices in my head screaming at me to stop. My fingers pressed and flicked, and a hard sharp spike of bliss made me grunt and close my eyes.

When I opened them, Kyl was shirtless. His chest and shoulders were broad and thick with muscle. Sparse dark brown hairs dotted the center of his torso, trailing down to his stomach. I looked at him with new eyes, taking in the powerful, handsome young man he’d become.

My eyes wandered down the trail of hairs leading to his pants, and saw an unmistakable bulge in his jeans. His arms, his biceps, god, they were glorious. How had I not noticed before?

Because he’s your son, you monster.

Another strong burst of pleasure from my fingers on my clit knocked the thought out of my head, but not before a small wave of nausea passed through me in response to the stab of self-loathing. I gritted my teeth and steadied myself on the counter with my free hand.

Suddenly, Kyl moved towards me. My eyes went wide with surprise. I recoiled instinctually, but didn’t fight it when his hands reached up and cupped my breasts. I was inches from his bare chest, the muscles taut under his skin.

I let out a moan that turned into a sob when he pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The pleasure spread across my chest. I was at war with myself. I wanted it so badly, but the fear and self-loathing at what I was doing kept surfacing, sending small waves of nausea through me.

His hands wandered across my body, up to my clavicle, down to my hips, then around, cupping my ass, pulling me closer. My nipples brushed against his torso, and a moment later I was savoring the feeling of his warm naked skin pressed against my bare breasts. One of his hands met mine, still between my legs. Strong fingers made contact with my clitoris.

I leaned forward instinctually and groaned, my cheek resting against his broad chest, his small dark chest hairs brushing against my face. I rubbed my face along his body, smelling him while his fingers explored my pussy.

I looked down at his hand hidden between my legs, the pleasure driving me forward, emboldening me. I reached down and grabbed the bulge in his jeans. We both froze a moment, and I realized that was the first time I’d taken initiative. The first time I’d touched him.

I moved my hand back and forth, slowly stroking his cock through the rough material. He moved too, rubbing my clit, and we both let out small animal grunts. I reached up and unbuttoned his jeans, then snaked my hand into his pants. My fingers brushed against bare skin, hints of the rigid shaft hiding in his underwear.

I finally got a good grip, and soon we were holding each other, touching each others most intimate places. I started stroking his cock, up and down, and I looked up at my son’s face as he groaned. Another wave of uncertainty and disgust washed over me. What are you doing? Stop! You’re giving your son a fucking handjob!? Stop!

New thoughts entered my brain, conflicting voices inside my head. What does it matter? You already fucked him last night. What’s a handjob compared to everything else you’ve done?

His finger slid down further between my legs. The warring thoughts racing through my mind were silenced by a new rush of adrenaline and pleasure as he gently pushed a finger inside me.

“Ahh,” I sighed in pleasure and contentment as my aching pussy finally had something to fill it up.

We slowly built up in our intensity, our hands exploring each other like new lovers. His free hand wandered across my body, massaging my breasts, then moved up to my chin. He tilted my head up towards his, and leaned in. Another stab of fear hit me, but it melted away when his lips touched mine.

Our first kiss was gentle. Hesitant. Somehow more intimate than sex, and far beyond any chaste display of affection from mother and son. He pressed his lips firmly into mine, and I sank into it, our passion building with each moment. His tongue invaded my mouth, and I met it with my own. Our lips stayed locked together, teasing, exploring, and soon we resumed our mutual handjobs with renewed fervor.

Wordlessly, we reached an inflection point. We broke our kiss, breathing hard, and he slipped his finger out of me. I let go of his cock.

He pushed me around the corner of the granite countertop, his eyes burning into mine, stripping off his pants and underwear as he guided me towards the kitchen table. All my doubts vanished when he picked me up and flipped me around, bending me over the wooden surface.

He lifted my legs, and my naked body slid forward across the blue cloth placemats, pushing them to the edge of the table. I was face down, my entire body off the ground. I bent my knees and spread my legs, readying myself for him.

I could feel him standing behind me. His hands ran across my bare back. He grabbed my hair and yanked my head up, my cheek leaving the cool wood behind. His other hand brushed against my thigh, guiding the springy head of his penis towards my sex. My eyes rolled back into my head when I felt him tease my entrance.

My son pushed his cock into me. Slowly. Sensually. I felt it stretch me out with perfect clarity, inch by inch. It was perfect. Beautiful. Horrifying. Taboo. I groaned in ecstasy, and felt tears in my eyes and a loud moan escape my lips as conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm me.

Kyl let out a groan of his own when he finally finished penetrating me. We stayed like that, motionless, breathing hard, for what felt like an eternity.

Oh god he’s inside me. My son is inside me. I let him do this, I let him-

He pulled back and thrusted, smooth and powerful.

“Oh- God!” I squealed and shivered as his penis slid across the sensitive walls of my vagina. My labia gripped his shaft, wet and tight.

He thrusted again and again, leaving less and less time between them, and my whole body rocked back and forth as my son drilled into me from behind. The cool wood felt incredible against my nipples. His hips thrust harder. Faster. But still maintaining a steady, even rhythm.

“That’s it, argh- Take it! Take it- You fucking slut,” Kyl growled at me, sending a hot wave of arousal into my pussy.

I’d never felt so sexy in my entire life. My sock-covered feet waved in the air above my ass, wiggling with each new assault. He held my head back, firmly wrapping his fingers around my straight dark hair, turning it into a makeshift ponytail. All he’d need to do was grab some rope and pull my arms back, and I’d practically be hogtied.

“You fucking love it, don’t you? You fucking need it, you need my cock in you, don’t you? Say it,” he said, his rock hard cock filling me up with that perfect fit.

“Ah! Ah! Ahh-” I let out a barrage of sharp moans, each one forced out of me by his penis effortlessly hitting a spot deep inside me.

“Say it, slut!” He growled forcefully, gripping my hair.

“Yes! Ahh! I- Ahh! I need it- Ahh! I need your cock,” I said quietly between moans, surrendering to his demand. He pumped into me with increased vigor, strong and fast, driving his hips back and forth until I was a quivering wreck.

He thrusted into me, conquering my womb, the place of his conception and birth. He’d already done it once before, but it was different now that I knew it was him. His breathing started to change. I could tell he was getting close.

“I’m gonna cum, mom,” he groaned. Hearing him call me mom filled my heart with a radiant wave of satisfaction. It spread across my body, a tingling bliss, meeting and mingling with the sexual pleasure building deep in my pussy.

I was on the edge of a precipice. Just a little more-

“Ahhh! Yes! Cum- Cum in me- Auughh!” I moaned loud and deep, losing control when I felt him grunt and plunge into me as far as he could go. His thrusts got shorter, more urgent.

“Fuck I’m cumming, mom!” He yelled, groaning, and the sudden slick wetness of my son’s cum shooting into me sent me sailing over the edge. I came, and he kept thrusting, coating my pussy lips with his semen as it leaked out.

My eyes squeezed shut, my mouth gaped open, and my moans turned into a scream. The orgasm ripped through me like a violent storm, battering me into submission.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, all I could do was yell and shake uncontrollably. The muscles in my vagina clenched and tightened, threatening to expel the incestuous member invading my womanhood.

Kyl let go of my hair and grabbed my hips with both hands, pinning me to his amazing cock, not letting my body ruin its own bliss. I sagged down to the table, breathing hard, whimpering, held in place by his strong arms.

The pleasure was indescribable. Perfection. It wasn’t better or worse than our first time the night before, but different. Sharper, more urgent, with all the terrible knowledge of who was responsible burning clear and bright in my mind.

I rode out the storm raging between my thighs, and took a long shuddering breath. My body relaxed, and the pleasure became softer, like a gentle summer rain bathing me in light.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, breathing slowly. His cock slowly softened in me, and I let out one last gasp when it finally slipped out. Neither of us broke the silence.

I took another deep breath, and a few stray doubts slithered across my mind. It was one thing to be tricked. Raped by an anonymous stranger. But this, god, what had we done? I’d known it was my son, and I’d welcomed him taking me. Fucking me.

I awkwardly climbed down from the table. Kyl backed away, and I looked down to the floor, not meeting his gaze. I did see his cock out of the corner of my eye, half-flaccid and streaked with white cum. I walked over to my clothes, shame burning in me, but Kyl grabbed my arm and spun me towards him.

He pulled me close, our naked bodies pressed together, and kissed me again. I let out a sigh of relief and renewed lust, the terrible thoughts melting away as his arms wrapped around me. The sensations blurred together. His lips, his skin, his tongue touching mine.

He broke away a moment and smiled down at me, confident and knowing.

“Don’t worry, mom. I’ll give you what you need,” he said, his eyes piercing through me.

I lost myself in his embrace, and I knew I couldn’t go back. I was his, to do with as he pleased.

***

I held up the glistening purple cone close to my face and wrinkled my nose. It looked huge in my small hand, but Kyl had insisted. I glanced at my naked body in the bathroom mirror, holding the plug up like a model in a pornographic advertisement. I picked up the bottle of lube and squeezed out another blob of the clear gel.

You can do this. He wants you to do this.

I rubbed another coat of fluid onto the plug, getting it a slippery as I could, and took a deep breath, trying to relax. He’d given me the toy last night, wordlessly handing me the bag while Paul was upstairs. I’d blushed, wide eyed, when I realized what it was.

“Make me breakfast tomorrow, and wear it,” he’d said plainly the night before.

My son and I had been having wild, incredible sex for months now. Almost every morning after Paul left for work, he’d order me around the house, treating me like the depraved slut I was.

The memories came back to me in vivid detail as I examined the smooth purple rubbery plastic of his latest obscene request. I thought back to our times together, the boundaries he’d pushed, the escalation.

We’d had an unspoken arrangement for a while. Never do anything when Paul was home. At least, until that night he’d sat down next to me while I was watching a TV show. The next thing I knew his hand was wandering up my leg. Paul was upstairs, right above us.

“Stop,” I’d whispered, but of course that only made him push further. He unbuttoned my jeans, slid his hand into my underwear, and held me. The pressure of his fingers against my vulva, strong and unyielding as I squirmed, drove me wild.

He slipped his finger inside me, and it only took a few minutes before I had to choke back an orgasm, painfully stifling my moans, praying the sound of the television in the background would hide our tryst.

A few weeks later we’d made love in my bed, slow passionate sex worthy of a romance novel. He sucked my nipples, ate my pussy, then gently entered me. We were face to face, our lips locked together as our mutual orgasms rocked our bodies.

The next day Kyl straddled my head, pinned me down and roughly fucked my mouth. He pulled out, and I watched him briefly masturbate, the head of his cock inches away from me, before my son shot his load of cum all over my face.

That mixture of dominant, borderline violent, degrading sex interspersed with gentle romantic lovemaking kept me guessing each day. I couldn’t get enough of either.

Nothing was taboo anymore. Once, a few weeks ago, he’d come downstairs with an evil grin on his face. He told me to strip naked in the kitchen, which wasn’t unusual these days, but still got me worked up.

“On your knees, and start touching,” he’d said, and I didn’t hesitate.

He took off his pants and started to masturbate along with me, and I was reminded of our very first encounter in the Seaside Inn. The similarities continued when he suddenly orgasmed, shooting cum all over the kitchen floor.

“Clean it up,” he growled after he’d calmed down from his peak. I stared at the cum, glistening on the black tile, and immediately understood what he wanted.

I’d balked at first, and tried to stand up to get a towel.

“No. Down,” he ordered, snapping his fingers and pointing at the floor. I paused, hesitating briefly. I swallowed nervously before giving in and lowering myself down on all fours.

“Clean it up, slut” he repeated. I reluctantly crawled forward and stared down at the clear-white fluid. I glanced up at my son, his half-hard cock dangling over me, hoping for some reprieve.

He eyed me expectantly, and I gathered up my hair, tossing it over my shoulder to keep it out the way as best I could before lowering my head with grim resignation.

I inched towards the clear white splatter, then stuck out my tongue and licked, lapping up his cum off the floor like a dog. It was awful and degrading, the taste of his semen mingling with cool, slightly bitter stone.

“That’s it. Good girl. Clean it up. Keep touching yourself,” he said encouragingly while he watched me lick the floor clean. My fingers returned to their place at my clitoris, and I was nearly finished, swallowing the last few drops when I finally orgasmed.

I gritted my teeth and moaned angrily, my face red and hot with shame. My body trembled and quaked, the left side of my face flat against the cool black tile. I felt the residue of cum and saliva rubbing into my cheek with each involuntary spasm.

I still thought of that moment, weeks later, every time he’d fucked me since then.

My mind returned to the present moment, the conical toy he wanted me to wear. An anal plug. I held its base, took a few deep breaths, then bent over the bathroom sink. I reached my hand around, contorting slightly to position the tip against my ass.

I circled it around my tight sphincter, letting the lube do the work, but I still winced and groaned in pain when it stretched my asshole past a certain width. I paused, taking a few more deep breaths, trying to get used to the strange sensation of having something stuck back there.

I steeled myself and pushed, exhaling sharply as the lubricated toy finally slipped entirely into my ass. The relief of having it finally inside me was glorious. I turned around and looked at it in the mirror. The little wineglass stem handle stuck out of me, a circular jewel of purple decorating my hole.

This was my first time ever using a toy, and it had been two decades since I’d tried anal for the first and only time, a wild experimental night back in graduate school.

I did a small kegel, testing the fit, and saw it wiggle slightly. The pressure of it nestled inside me was uncomfortable, but each time I moved the little skinny stem connecting the plug to the handle stimulated me in new and amazing ways.

I stood up straight, very carefully, making sure it stayed put. I took a few more deep breaths, getting used to the feel of it as I moved, and put on my panties. I felt a little more secure once the snug fabric was flush against my skin, but the circle of soft plastic in my underwear was still distracting.

I finished getting dressed with slow and careful movements. When I walked downstairs, I gingerly planted my feet on each step like I was recovering from a major injury, trying to keep my back straight.

I relaxed more once I reached the kitchen, letting myself enjoy the sexual thrill of having a butt plug wedged inside me while I flitted back and forth across the tile floor, cooking up bacon and eggs.

I heard Kyl come downstairs, drawn by the smells, most likely.

“Morning, mom,” he said, walking into the kitchen.

“Morning,” I replied, shooting him a coy smile. “Want some orange juice?”

“Sure,” he said after a pause.

I put a plate of food in front of him on the counter. He watched me carefully while I walked to the fridge. My gait was still a bit stiff, and I stopped to take a few deep breaths before I could handle walking back over to him with the glass.

He ate slowly, smiling at me knowingly the entire time, watching me clean up. From the look on his face I could already tell today would not be gentle. I finished cleaning and stood in the kitchen, waiting for him to finish, hesitant to sit down.

“Show me,” he said casually, still eating his breakfast.

I carefully lowered the skirt I’d worn today, suddenly aware of the arousal flooding between my legs. I steadied my breathing, spun around, and slowly leaned over. I looked back at him over my shoulder and peeled off my panties, putting on a seductive show, exposing the purple jewel covering my asshole.

I straightened my back, facing away from Kyl’s confident gaze. I heard him slide off the stool and pad over to me, barefoot. His arms enveloped me from behind, and he pulled me close into his body. The plug in my ass squished against his groin and I let out a sharp breath at the contact. He unhooked my bra, and soon his hands were running across my skin, his lips softly kissing my neck.

He massaged my left breast with one hand, and his other caressed my stomach. It slowly slid further down, through my pubic hair, and to the top of my clitoris. His touch was electrifying, and I gasped and breathed heavily as his two fingers flanked my clit, already stiff and puffy with arousal.

My son wasted no time. He knew exactly how to drive me wild, circling and stimulating my pussy with dexterous fingers. Every time my vagina flexed with a new peak, the plug shifted, adding another layer of pleasure and fullness to the experience. I leaned back into Kyl’s body and looked over my shoulder at him, my lips parting, breath heavy.

We kissed, hungry and full of lust, tongues battling in each other’s mouths. My hips gyrated, grinding my ass into his body, and I reveled in the taboo feeling the purple toy was generating between my legs. Suddenly, he broke away from the kiss and gently pushed me away.

“Down,” he ordered, breathlessly.

I wordlessly lowered myself to all fours on the cold tile floor. I bent forward, lifting my swollen pussy into the air, presenting myself to him. The purple circle of the plug nearly pointed straight up. I twisted around to glance behind me and saw his clothes hitting the floor in a messy pile.

He knelt down behind me, and I felt the familiar pressure of my son’s cock head positioning itself at my entrance. He pushed forward into my vagina, and I let out an involuntary squeal of delight that turned into a deep moan. I’d felt him inside me dozens of times at this point, but with the thick silicone toy already wedged inside my ass, it was like a whole new level of penetration.

He gently worked his way deeper inside me, and I felt every millimeter of rigid veiny skin force my body apart. I realized they were touching, his cock and the toy, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. I leaned forward, dropping to my forearms, and rested my head against the tile, trying to relax against this assault on my holes.

I breathed in and out, slow and deep, and the pleasure quickly overwhelmed the lingering tightness and pain of having two large objects inside me at once. He started fucking me then, gently moving in and out of my pussy with small thrusts of his hips. I let out more deep guttural moans with each small movement of his cock.

We got into a rhythm, the small thrusts pushing me closer and closer to orgasm. His hand gripped my ass, and I felt an unfamiliar tugging. I tried to twist to see what he was doing, but I couldn’t contort my body enough. All I could see was him smiling wickedly at me out of the corner of my eye.

It didn’t take long to realize he was gently pulling on the toy lodged in my ass. I grunted through gritted teeth as I felt the thick body of the conical toy stretch me out. It felt disgustingly similar to using the bathroom.

My face must have looked ridiculous, oscillating rapidly between intense sexual pleasure, pain, and odd satisfaction. The rapid fire mixture of sensations and emotions flashed through me, then he stopped, and pushed the plug back in before my body could expel it fully.

My son resumed fucking me with a small chuckle at my discomfort. I quickly returned to my relaxed state, the small burst of adrenaline faded, and the pleasure returned with even more intensity than before.

“Are you- Augh- on birth control, mom?” Kyl asked me, breathless. I looked back at him, confused and barely registering what he was asking in my nearly orgasmic state.

“What?” I asked, incredulous at the odd question.

“Are you on birth control?” He repeated more forcefully.

“Yes, ahh, ahh- The- Ahh! The pill,” I finally got out in between moans. I looked forward again, sinking deeper to the floor.

“Stop taking it,” he said in a commanding tone.

“What!?” I whirled my head back around, trying to look at him. He leaned over, and his eyes met mine, intense and driven.

“Stop,” he said, thrusting deeper inside me. I couldn’t help but open my mouth as the intense pleasure overwhelmed me.

“Taking,” another thrust, and I moaned louder.

“It!” He finished, gripping my hips and pulling my entire body closer to his.

I stared at him as he drove into me, fucking me with that perfect cock of his, and I suddenly felt my own orgasm arriving right as the magnitude of what he was asking me sunk in.

Did he- Did he want to get me pregnant? That was insane! I groaned in pleasure, imagining my son cumming inside me with no protection. I was too lost in the sensation, too close to my own orgasm to argue. I nodded at him, giving in, accepting my fate.

“Okay, oka- Auuughhhhh,” I moaned like an animal, my pussy flexed and quivered, and the orgasm ripped through me. I bucked and shuddered, and my asshole opened, dangerously close to expelling the toy.

He came with me, and I sensed the wet lubrication of his cum flood my vagina. The pleasure spread across my body in strong sharp bursts. I collapsed forward, pressing my head against the floor, overwhelmed by the incredible bliss of having my ass stuffed and stimulated while my son’s cock continued to twitch, shooting more semen inside me.

He held me by the hips and breast, bending over my back, as our bodies settled down. I let out a few deep shuddering breaths, and we both collapsed onto the floor. We kissed each other, our nude bodies entwined in an awkward tangle.

“Were you- Were you serious? About what you said,” I asked as he rolled off my back.

“Of course,” he answered without hesitation.

“We couldn’t. That- It might be dangerous,” I said, oddly shy. I looked into his eyes, and I could tell he was unconvinced. He shifted suddenly, putting some of his weight on my back, pinning me to the floor.

His hand slid across my bare butt, and I felt him grip the toy again.

“You’re mine, mom,” he said, low and dangerous. I yelped in pain as he started to tug the circular base. I wiggled instinctually, trying to get away, but it was a futile gesture against his strength. I was helpless, and he pulled. I panted and groaned as the fattest part of the toy slowly forced its way through my asshole.

“If I want to get you fucking pregnant, that’s what’s going to happen. Understood?” He growled at me, slowly sliding the toy out of my tight ass. The sudden intensity of his orders, and the unique pleasure and pain of the rubbery material expanding my sphincter got me horny all over again.

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the cone-shaped object finally tapered down and slipped out entirely. I laid there, my body pressed against the tile, trying to suppress the lingering pain radiating across my rear end.

“Understood?!” He shouted and spanked my ass, hard, sending a new stab of pain through my backside.

“Ah! Yes! Yes,” I exclaimed, squinting my eyes shut and grimacing as the shock of the contact made my whole body shudder.

“Good,” he declared, pushing off me. I heard a clatter as he dropped the undoubtedly filthy toy in the sink.

I laid unmoving on the tile floor, breathing hard, biting my lip as I considered moving my hand between my legs to rub my aching clitoris again. I decided against it. I was too sore, and my brain was still reeling at what I’d agreed to do.

My son wanted to get me pregnant.

I rolled over, staring up at his strong naked body as he got dressed, reflecting on how strange our lives had become. Our relationship was far more intimate, for obvious reasons, but also more distant than before. It was difficult to be normal together now, after all the intense sexual experiences we’d shared.

And now, this. It probably wouldn’t even work. I was nearly 44 years old. Even IVF was a longshot at my age. Logically, I should have stopped taking the pills years ago, but, as some of my friends had pointed out over the years, I was one of those annoyingly lucky women who had almost no side effects from them.

I rested on the floor, convincing myself it would fine. I could stop taking the pills. Indulge him in his fantasy.

***

Two months later, I woke up feeling hornier than I’d been in years. I’d quickly returned to my natural cycle after stopping the pills, but I couldn’t remember feeling this way before. I had a deep aching emptiness between my legs, and from the moment I stretched out in bed and rubbed my thighs together I knew today would be satisfying.

A quick check of the driveway confirmed that Paul was already gone. I quietly padded over to the bathroom and took care of my morning routine. I was about to put on a new set of underwear when I absentmindedly touched myself. The sudden release of pleasure gave me a naughty idea.

I rummaged around in my closest and pulled out a set of lingerie that I hadn’t worn in years. A blood red lacy bra and panty set, sheer and frilly. I could just barely make out my nipples through the material, and my dark brown pubic hair was clearly visible. Luckily, it still fit, and I smiled, proud of my youthful form in the bathroom mirror. Long hours in the gym paying off in spades.

I felt empowered, like a huntress after her prey as I silently swaggered down the hallway towards Kyl’s bedroom. I opened the door as softly as I could manage, peeking inside. My son was lying in bed, still asleep, and I gingerly stepped into his room.

I tip-toed over to his prone form, licking my lips. I tried to be as quiet as I could, but I felt him stir when I lifted up the blanket. I gently lowered myself next to him in the bed, as sneakily as I could manage, and scooted down underneath the covers.

The bed smelled like him, masculine sweat and teenage hormones, and I felt a renewed tightness between my legs as my vagina swelled. I spotted my prize. My son’s cock, rigid in the morning light, tenting his boxer shorts.

I pulled his underwear off and his penis sprung to attention, less than an inch from my face. I rubbed my cheeks against it, closing my eyes and nuzzling the cock like a friendly cat. I luxuriated in the feel of the towering veiny member rolling across the soft skin of my face, the mixture of thick male power and surprisingly pliable skin.

I stuck out my tongue and licked it, kissed it, slowly working my way up his shaft, worshiping every inch of his cock. I finally reached the head and wrapped my lips around the springy bulbous flesh. My eyelids fluttered with satisfaction when I heard my son let out a low groan as I slid the tip of his penis into my mouth.

This was unusual for us. I couldn’t remember ever initiating sex with him in all the months since that fateful night in the Seaside Inn. He’d always come to me, aggressively seducing and taking me in whatever way he pleased.

Now, I was the aggressor, sneaking into his room and sucking his cock before he’d even woken up properly. I bobbed my head up and down, pleasuring him with my mouth, feeling his foreskin with my tongue. He was awake now, and his hands stroked my hair as I licked and kissed his shaft.

He shoved the blanket off me, and I looked up at him with a sultry smile, licking his straining cockhead. I gripped his shaft with my fingers and gave it a few slow pumps.

“Morning,” I said quietly before kissing his dick again.

“What are you doing, mom?” He asked, staring at me expectantly.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I answered with another kiss and stroke before swallowing his cock in one quick motion.

He grunted, almost angrily, and we locked eyes as I gave him a slow blowjob. At some point my hand wandered between my legs, underneath the lacy red panties, and I started masturbating with his cock in my mouth. I couldn’t help myself, I was so incredibly horny, but less than a minute later Kyl pulled away from me.

I bit my lip and looked up at him, confused, but a moment later he pulled off his shirt and I was treated to the sight of his magnificent torso.

“Talk dirty to me, mom,” he said with a subtle sneer.

I felt a moment of trepidation. I’d never been particularly good at that. The only times I said much was in the heat of the moment, but before then I was too self-conscious to say much at all.

“I can’t, I’m not, not good at it,” I answered quietly.

He shot me a sly grin.

“Just, tell me what mommy wants,” he said, teasing.

I was still holding his cock, and I looked down at it, gathering my courage. I took a deep breath.

“I want- I want your cock-” I was interrupted by a quick smack to my face.

“Ah!” I exclaimed, shocked by the stinging contact. It took me a second to even realize that my son had slapped me. He didn’t do it hard, but it was enough to get my adrenaline pumping, and I looked up at him hurt and confused.

“I said, tell me what mommy wants,” he repeated, forcefully emphasizing the word. My nipples got hard under my red lingerie. I took another deep steadying breath, gazing at him intently, and swallowed.

“Mommy- Mommy wants your cock,” I whispered, and couldn’t help but smile as my son groaned. I felt his penis twitch and pulse between my fingers.

“Where?” He composed himself long enough to spit out the word before settling back down.

I thought a moment, and the aching yearning emptiness between my legs became all-encompassing.

“Mommy wants it inside her- Inside her pussy,” I whispered louder, shifting my body up the bed, straddling my son’s hips with my bare thighs. I pulled my lacy red panties aside and scooted closer, letting out a quiet shuddering sigh of relief and pleasure when his cock touched my pussy lips.

I looked down at his penis caught between my legs, the head pointed up towards me like a flagpole, the shaft gently rubbing against the entrance to my vagina. I was already soaking wet. It almost felt different, the moisture slowly leaking out of me, readying my body for his penetration.

I rocked my hips back and forth, teasing him, kissing his cock with my swollen lips.

“Mommy needs you to fuck her,” I gasped, running my hands along his tight abs. He nodded, his face full of lust.

I couldn’t wait anymore. I lifted myself up, pulled my panties aside even further and guided his penis to my entrance, rubbing it back and forth to get the head wet. I lowered onto him with a slow, exaggerated motion, my face contorted in ecstasy.

“Auughh,” I moaned, lost in that first moment of perfection, of pure bliss as I impaled myself on my son’s cock. The yearning ache vanished, replaced by an incredible satisfaction, like a part of me was missing and only now was returned to its rightful place.

I sat on him, breathing hard, acclimating to his intrusion. God he felt incredible! The thought flashed through me, and not for the first time. I gyrated my hips, slowly at first, and looked down at my son’s naked body through half-lidded eyes. His cock swirled around inside me, forced to move with my body, stimulating every last inch of my vagina.

“Ahh- Yes, let me- Let mommy ride you,” I smiled wide, and let out a small satisfied laugh that turned into another gasping moan.

My slow gyrating transitioned to a playful bouncing. I held my hands against his torso to steady myself, and settled into a rhythm, finding the perfect angle to push his cock into my most sensitive areas.

I decided to keep my bra on. The sheer material accentuated and hinted at the shape of my breasts, and I knew it made me look sexy as hell. I hadn’t planned on it, but it felt like I was putting on a show for him between the outfit and the dirty talk. It was pushing my buttons too, knowing that my purpose right now was to please him in any way I could.

I arched my back and looked up at the ceiling, sinking into the rhythm of our lovemaking. I relaxed, letting the sensations wash over me. The little sparks and pulses rolling across my body, taking me places I never thought possible. His fingers brushed against my clit, and my entire jaw and neck tensed as a sharp rocket of bliss shot up my body.

“I’m getting close, mom,” Kyl said, placing his strong hands on my hips, ready to slow me down.

Hearing him say that suddenly sent me right to the edge. One of my thighs trembled slightly, my breathing fast and shallow. I instantly knew I needed his cum inside me. I didn’t want it, I needed it, like I needed air or water.

I had a sudden moment of clarity. God, I must be ovulating. That’s why I was so horny and wet. Why I put on my lingerie and crawled into my son’s bed. It’s why I was riding him like a prize stud.

Fuck. I thought about stopping, but, I was so close, we were so close. I couldn’t stop. I knew this was what he wanted. To get me pregnant. Did I want it too? Right now, the answer was definitely yes, yes, god yes, and a new set of wicked thoughts entered my head.

“Kyl, ah- Mommy’s ovulating- Aughh,” I admitted, and I felt his grip on my hips tighten, and an expression of intense hungry lust settled on his face. I bit my lip, slowing the gyrating of my hips.

“Aughh- You- You want to get mommy pregnant?” I spoke softly, and he nodded somewhat in disbelief. I picked up the pace again, returning to the quick playful bouncing, letting him feel every tight wet inch of my pussy.

“Mommy needs you to get her pregnant, Kyl,” I stared into his eyes, feeling my own orgasm rising in me, I bounced up and down on his perfect thick cock, fucking him harder and harder with each passing moment.

“Yes! Auugh- Fuck! Mommy- mommy needs you to fill her up! Mommy needs her son’s cum! Fill me up! Fill me- Get mommy pregnant- Ohhhh!!”

I came mid-sentence, and felt my son do the same underneath me. The orgasm spread across my body, consuming and suppressing all rational thought. It was like I fell down a pit into my own head. All that mattered was his beautiful cock, filling my womb with life. His seed, spreading through my vagina, taking refuge before the long journey ahead.

My toes curled, my whole body collapsed into his, and some faraway part of my brain realized I was still screaming in pleasure. Kyl thrust his hips into me, taking over when I couldn’t continue, pushing his cum into me as deep as it would go. I heard his own masculine grunts, but they sounded muffled, like we were underwater.

I pressed against his chest, convulsing and seeing stars. He wrapped his strong arms around my torso and the back of my head, holding me, keeping me safe. The bliss overwhelmed me, painful in its intensity, and all I could do was scream and shake to try and let it escape. The peak subsided, and as I crested the wave a more manageable feeling of contentment and satisfaction washed over my body.

I breathed, steady and deep, a dazed smile across my face, smelling my son’s sweat and the faint aroma of our sex as I nuzzled against his muscular torso. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been gone. The orgasm was so strong, it was almost an out of body experience. All I could do was lay there, eyes closed, enveloped in his arms, his cock still inside me.

I finally opened my eyes and saw a curtain of my own dark brown hair covering the view. I brushed it away and looked up at my son, exhausted, my cheeks flushed. He smiled down at me, and we kissed.

“I love you, mom,” he said, gently brushing my hair back, tucking it behind my ears. I smiled back at him as the pleasure continued rolling through me, fading into a relaxing haze.

“I love you too,” I replied, content to lay on top of him, feeling his cock shrinking inside me. He didn’t bother pulling out, and I didn’t move either. We simply laid there, mother and son, entwined in our taboo union.

Eventually, he shrank down enough that the natural pressure of my vagina pushed him out. I felt a wet trickle of his cum on my pussy lips, but I was too dazed to clean up. I simply scooted forward, splayed out on his body, and kissed him, slow and sensual.

A beautiful excitement bubbled up in my chest as I imagined what might come next. I pictured it in my head, his sperm wriggling past my cervix, finding my egg and impregnating me. Our baby, growing in my womb, a new life, the ultimate expression of our love, of my devotion to him.

He’d taken me, utterly and completely, and made my body his. I prayed that it would happen, that my son would become the father of my child. Although, another part of me considered that if it didn’t happen now, we’d try again. And again. I wriggled against his body, imagining him cumming in me, breeding me, over and over, and felt another pulse of arousal between my legs.

I closed my eyes and sighed, the last vestiges of my orgasm fading into the background. I basked in the afterglow, content with whatever came next.

***

I was late.

It had been three weeks since that beautiful morning, and I hadn’t gotten my period yet. I was still somewhat in denial, I couldn’t believe it had really happened, that my son had gotten me pregnant, but time would tell. We hadn’t talked about it again since that morning, and I didn’t know if he even realized what had happened.

It was Friday morning. I didn’t have any classes to teach, so I usually spent the morning at home relaxing before heading in to campus for my office hours, and to work on the never ending grading of tests and homework assignments.

I was brushing my teeth in my long cream camisole and a matching set of panties, thinking of all the things I had to do today, when I heard my bedroom door creak open. My heart skipped in surprise as Kyl walked in. I watched him in the mirror, my brushing slowing down, and the familiar heat of arousal tickled between my legs as I imagined what was going to come next.

He didn’t usually meet me in my bedroom, preferring to intercept me downstairs in the kitchen or living room, ordering me to strip naked or simply grabbing my breasts and taking me in whatever manner he felt like that day.

“Come here,” he said, sitting down on the side of my bed, facing the open bathroom door. I spat out my toothpaste, eyeing him. I quickly rinsed out my mouth and strode towards him, stopping a foot away in nothing but my sleep clothes.

“Yes?” I asked innocently, smiling down at him. He looked up at me with those intense brown eyes.

“You missed your period, and you didn’t tell me,” he said sharply. Accusingly. I frowned down at him.

“I did, but it’s early, it might be nothing,” I said, watching him closely. He looked angry, but it was hard to tell if it was genuine.

“You should have told me,” he reached out and grabbed my wrist, yanking me closer with a strong unyielding grip.