tagIncest/TabooSocial Sado-Masoch Secrets, Devil Entity Desires

Social Sado-Masoch Secrets, Devil Entity Desires

byFrenchLitLover©

You're ensnared in my abyss, something sick, sinister, a horrid enchantment quickening the heart. I am the detail. The salacious Satan, the ugly truth of broken taboos like the tightest virgin cunt split open as it gushes slick submission.

When these sweet slit morals are shattered-honey satiety flows free. That's right. I am the universal entity of transgression and forbidden madness. Follow me...I will show you my work, how it's all connected. All that you know is never all that it seems. I will confirm this perversity-reality, ejaculated from dreams...

Susan is one of my conductors. She's the lean big breasted mother of two, who works out religiously projecting sleek lusty energy. Her ice blonde hair is short, tossed around her perspiring head as she dreams. Susan moans, trembling, body twisting.

It's a shame she doesn't sleep with her polar sky blue eyes open, that she doesn't witness her own hands running up and down her thighs. Anyone could tell by her curling toes or arching hips that she twitched carnal excitement. Susan is captured by elegant filth.

What restless adventures is this woman in her late forties a slave to? Why is this searing Milf slit-wet like boiling vanilla? She's so helpless in her sticky crotch kissed sheets...Susan sees, spies rather, a young erotically cruel son spanking his mother's gentle ass.

The son Stephen is approaching his twenty-first birthday. He's tall and athletic with pale skin, brown eyes, and broad shoulders. He towers over his prostrate mom on her knees like a trained bitch. Becca whimpers underneath her own child's hand to butt punishment.

Stephen is naked except for combat boots and a military captain's hat that says "Motherfucker." Susan cannot take her dream gaze away from Stephen's nine inch cock, jabbing up proudly into the air like a bulbous symbolism of phallic dominance.

Becca's whole body is clad in black S&M leather and metal loops, which aesthetically end at tall black high heels exposing black painted toes. Her face is covered with a puppy-play dog mask. Through the masks Doberman Pinscher-style, Becca's frantic blue eyes peer out unfurling dark enjoyment in her forbidden humiliation.

The thick rubbery mask's pointed dog ears stick up realistic and attentive. Her suit is also crotchless, crafted to leave her rear end bare and her taut nipple tits, those generous motherly suckers, totally unclothed. Susan took it all in. The posh scenery where it all played out. A vast pearl carpeted living room near a black marble fireplace roaring split tongues.

Susan swore she could feel each hiss of flame popping earthy wood chunks. A Christmas tree stood in the living room corner. There were decoration balls hanging off branches, but more panties, thongs, high heels, and pantyhose than anything else.

Below the tree sat presents fit for an aroused sin Angel. Whips, leashes, ball gags, dildos, vibrators, cuffs, and more glittering high heels. On a mantle above the fireplace was a picture of mother and son smiling together like any other family.

Even so, what my kink-drinking Susan writhed prey to wasn't regular family relations. She knew this and encouraged more vulgar mingling, more lewd coupling to advance her scathing appetite, usually tame and moral in waking hours.

Oh how I love debauching the prim ones! Making them lick the feet of their evil concept...

"Merry Christmas, Mom. What is my present since you've been more naughty than nice? How about I take a paddle to your sluttish ass while your nipples are clamped," Stephen said.

"I'm...your...Stephen I'm your Mother. You shouldn't talk to me like that," Becca said in abashment. Stephen stood behind his mother, commanding a model view of her ass cheeks. He could trace her bald pussy and the tight pink panther contours of her starfish.

Susan found herself quivering at this sensitive view. She imagined how hot it would make her clit if she ran her long tongue along both holes, as Stephen used his hand pecker to fuck his mother.

"I shouldn't, but I will. I think you forgot your place in this aberration here," Stephen lectured. He picked up a small riding crop. "Growing up you disciplined me, now I'm grown. I feel it's only fair if I teach you some discipline. Freudian discipline."

Stephen tickled his mother's pussy hole with the riding crop. He lifted it over his head, bringing it whizzing down on Becca's buttocks. She gasped moans, taking the abuse. "I'm the principle...and here's my pleasure," he said flogging her in rough succession. "That's for every time you spanked me over your lap." Susan moaned with Becca as if she too took a thrashing.

Mesmerized, Susan began fingering her pouting snatch lips, pinching her tingling nipples. The shady mystery playing a devil's part in her lust was how Becca got her sexualized position in the first place. Susan kept thinking it was half force, half seduction.

She imagined Stephen's father (who had somehow taken her own daddy's visage) wanted his wife Becca to labor under their son's illicit libido. Having her fucked and objectified this way completed his fervent masturbatory fantasies.

Susan became increasingly volcanic, like she was sitting naked on the smooth fireplace hearth. Contempt for ethics, for respecting rules baked her cunt to an approaching sizzle. She creamed like a hellish cunt, and thought being called one would only bolster her discharge.

Stephen made his mother sit on her knees. Becca's puckered tits shifted up and down with her ragged breathing, causing her nipples to appear pointed further. Rudely, he cupped those knockers twisting her whole breasts. He assaulted her nipples by alternating from hand pinches between thumbs, to light condescending strokes.

Becca panted for more of her son's incestual degradation. Her own twat burned an unholy tapestry of ravaged virtues. The very fuck box that gave birth to Stephen, that same dewy beaver, creamed and jerked before his big hands molesting her bosom. She couldn't tear her glance from his erect pole waving before her face.

Never before had she yearned to suck a cock this desperately. Susan wanted to blow him too. She knew this was her first time Becca actually experienced sexual contact with her son, but she knew the fantasy shadowed her.

But this was just her dream...yet why was it so vivid....this mother and son textured and tangible like overpowering sexual war crimes. Stephen took up a leash from under the tree's mid-point. He fastened the mock diamond latch to a metal loop around Becca's neck.

"Charming," he said tightening the slack until she almost choked. He squatted down, looking at her as would a bull with grapefruit sized balls.

Stephen's hand boldly-demonically charged, like a despot clutching a harem whore, reached down to Becca's foaming cunt. His conquering fingers skated across his mother's pussy lips, pushed passed their hot plentiful smear and penetrated up her moist gripping hole.

She swooned, almost losing her balance while granting his fingers freshly spit cunt whey. Stephen's fingers fucked Becca faster, harder, man fondling her clit, demanding she sit on them, that she be spread and subdued.

Susan's own fingers hysterically masturbated every wet stretch of her spunk box, slipping here, fucking there, or massaging her pearl tongue. Her mouth was so parched by lust so dehydrated for willful smuttism, that she licked her own fuck nectar off her fingers.

Stephen's colorful mania blossomed to ultra-tones. He took his mother in the position of a rider holding a horse's reins. While pulling on her leash from behind for taut sadism, he stuck a thick multi-striped candy cane up her rose-pink asshole.

As he sodomized his mother's snug dumper with the candy cane, he ate her snatch. His tongue dabbled salivating spells upon her ravaged clam. She came in his mouth causing Susan to cum so violently her butthole came also.

Stephen replaced his mommy cunt sucking mouth with the stomp hard cock of a Roman motherfucker. He squeezed his fat dick in, palmed Becca's tempting ass, ramming home the sweet spot. Susan had a multiple orgasm right then.

She could make out the moist jelly cream hump; hear his hard cooze crasher pillaging his mom's sanctimonious cavern. A thousand laws were broken at that instant penetration. Right became what was so wrong, ejaculating piquant gross lusciousness.

Stephen pounded Becca's poon. He spanked and cursed at her, threw his gyrating pelvis back so far before drilling her pussy, each impact sounded like impregnated pain.

"Tell me you love being screwed by your son Mom. Say it. Beg for this cock harder," he yelled between clenched teeth. "Fuck me hard...nail me," Becca moaned. "I didn't hear you." "Fuck me like a slut. Fuck me hard...I want you to use me like a whore Stephen!"

Stephen fucked her rougher, beating her sugar hole relentlessly. She couldn't catch her breath. Before she could, her slammed cooze creamed two climaxes on her son's wonder weapon. He oiled his bone long enough to get it perfectly sticky and pulled out. He immediately, without concern or notification, took that saturated cock and slid it right inside his mom's butthole. Becca screamed agonized delight, the thrilling momentum too horridly dominant to break.

She was being dominated by her son's sexual raiding, his noble darkness in bringing her oedipal doting to carnal fruition. Susan realized they were satisfying half the world's most secret longings, actualizing a triumph for humanity.

Stephen ass-fucked his mother slowly. He took her to her depths, tamed her feral spasming back humps. Then, when she became too comfortable, he dog-thrusted her backdoor. The fireplace made their bodies sweat, melt together, it provided extra lubrication raising their blood temperature to a magma heat.

Not wanting to cum anywhere but his mother's sweet mouth, Stephen pulled off Becca's mask and withdrew from her rear. He stood before his mother's enticed sweating face, her dirty blonde hair wet and uncivilized.

She looked at his bloated cock, so angry, veiny, extending valiantly to her face. Their eyes met without shame. Stephen knelt to her breasts and sucked her nipples as he stroked his pipe. He licked around each nipple, biting the tips, teething, taking the nursing suck of tits that were always his. What fed, also gave orgasms...

Becca came again. Stephen got to his feet, pumping his congested fuck lance. Susan braced herself for his eventual explosion. She wanted it on her nipples, across her stomach, shot in her mouth, squirted on her toes.

"Open your mouth," he commanded, jacking off faster. Becca opened her clean dentist's favorite mouth. She licked her lips keeping both eyes on her son's cum shot to be. And then, like a surging wave brought from under incest oceans, his spunk fired into her mouth.

Becca wiggled her tongue, catching gooey streams. She held out her tits so he could splatter cum on them too. Like a continual sprinkler shooting dripping skips, he emptied fuck down his mother's throat. Susan sprayed her own hand with cream as Becca sucked off his prick.

Becca licked it for any remaining splooge, taking his cock-helmet to the back of her throat. Just then Susan saw a sight that made her squirm lascivious shock. Her view changed into her dead father standing naked over her daughter while she blew him, her young cheerleader cheeks packed full. Her daughter was also naked with her hands cuffed behind her back as she rode her brother's cock.

He thrusted up into his sister, looking at Susan through her dream Vantage with invitational daring... In the same home of Susan (whose estranged husband doesn't share with her) Susan's son is having an awfully derogatory dream. His cock is dreadfully hard. Two doors down his sister awakens to find lusty discharge in her nightgown crotch area. All she remembers is riding a dick.

During the day in a different time zone, Stephen and Becca celebrate a new beginning to the very "real" victory over taboos they shattered not long ago.

And I-the director of this "real" transposing symphony, lick my metaphysical lips, nod my phallic head, and navigate illustrious chasms where I'll slide finer palate tart perversions through your mirror...

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by Anonymous04/05/14

Bloated, overblown

excessively florid, over-expressed garbage; you're not William Shakespeare, and this is not the Center for Literary Excellence, so why write such conceited, pretentious horseshit? NO stars, your idiommore...

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