Blackmail Pregnant Mom -- Pics

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Mafia threatens a mother/son coupling.
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[the following story contains themes of blackmail, nonconsent, and incest]

AnnabelleBrito is an erotic illustrator making art for feminization & incest authors

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Professional women like Lauren aren't supposed to be visiting the upscale hotel this late at night. She's a financial advisor at one of the city's largest brokerage firms. At this hour she should be at home sipping wine after a long day in the office. The look on her face is somber, she knows things will never be the same.

Her idyllic life took a dramatic turn last year after a client wanted suspicious money transfers done. After doing independent research she realized that she'd been laundering money for the mafia. At first she tried to ignore her guilty conscience, but it was too much to deal with.

A few months later, Lauren decided to make things right by siphoning some of the money to various charities. Yes it was stupid, but she was certain she'd never get caught because finances are her expertise and there were so many middle-men anyway.

What she hadn't counted on, however, was how ruthless these people are. That was how she got caught last week. Because they worked their way through the financial chain and figured out that she was the reason their money was less than it should have been. She was naive about these people all along. Maybe her kindness and demure nature were responsible for her undoing.

She'd come close to reporting this to the police, but was warned against it. Her parents are still around and she has siblings and cousins and nieces and nephews. She'd never forgive herself if anything happened to them, on account of her mistake.

The elevator door opens and her stomach is in knots. Her main prayer is that she can go home safely. If they wanted to get rid of her, they'd have done it already, someplace random and discrete -- not in a high class hotel room.

She knocks on the door and some innocent looking young man opens it. This guy looks nothing like a mafia enforcer, which surprises Lauren, but then again what does she know about this world?

"I think you're expecting me," she says.

"Your name?"


"Come in."

When she enters the hotel room, she hears the shower running while the bathroom door is closed, then she's instructed to put her purse down. The young man rummages through her belongings, then uses an electronic bug sweeper to make a brief scan. He takes the phone and places it inside a plastic bag.

"I'll have to search you," he says.


She gets patted down, performed the same way a police officer would do it, which suggests this young man has been trained for security, even though he's far from being a tough guy. The physical inspection is thorough and calculated.

"Now you'll have to undress," he says.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry, but these are orders. It's precautionary."

"And if I refuse?"

He shrugs. "You can guess what happens. I don't know."

"Am I going to be sexually assaulted?"

"No, you'll be fine."

The demure nature of this young man catches Lauren off guard. She wonders if she'd overestimated these people, that perhaps the violent threat was all in her head, but she reminds herself of the articles she'd read about this organization.

She takes a deep breath and tries to stay composed. If this is going to be done, then it's going to be done on her terms. She refuses to break. All her life she'd never been involved with violence and she refuses to be a victim now. She also makes the calculated decision that this young man is too timid to rape her.

With steady hands she begins to undress. Every rustle of her clothes seemed to echo in that hotel room, all her senses heightened. Her layers of professionalism are peeled away and placed on the couch, until she stands there naked. Her hands don't know what to do, caught between wanting to cover her nipples and crotch, or being defiant and letting everything show.

The young man pulls out a phone and starts snapping pictures. It's done so fast she doesn't have any time to respond or cover herself, but then again that wouldn't have made a difference. Not with these kinds of people.

"So these pictures are safe with me, okay? Just don't call the cops or else everyone will see your naked body. Okay?"

The blackmail makes her shudder. Now she's trapped, but realistically the blackmail was unnecessary. Women like her don't fight back. Women like her comply.

She hears the shower stop. Whoever is in the bathroom will be coming out soon and the thought of being raped crosses her mind once again. The young man tells Lauren to wait there nude until 'the boss' comes and makes the offer. Hearing the word 'offer' gives her relief because it means she won't be hurt.

When the bathroom door opens after a few minutes, Benedetta steps out barefoot wearing a robe and a towel wrapped around her hair. This is the client that Lauren had been working with over the past year, the sharp-witted Italian woman who most people think is a legitimate small business owner.

"I see you've met my son," Benedetta says.

"Yes, that's right."

There's an unsettling feeling in the pit of Lauren's stomach. A son? This night is nothing like she'd imagined. It seems incredibly unlikely that a mafia woman would commit a violent crime in the presence of her son, but then again Lauren has been wrong about these people before.

It's also unsettling being the only naked person in the room. They have the physical power, but they also have power from seeing her naked. Her body is being roamed by Benedetta's eyes, which the son never did. Benedetta doesn't hide that she likes what she's seeing.

"Where's my money, Lauren?"

She gulps. "I'm sorry, I don't have it. But I can pay you back. I've already written a payment plan. It's in my purse. I swear I'll reimburse you."

"You think that'll settle things with us?"

"Please, it's the best I can do."

The two women stand face to face, Lauren frozen with fear, Benedetta with a smirk on her face, eyes focusing on those pink nipples. The mafia woman even reaches forward and tweaks both nipples, pinching and twisting them to elicit a physical reaction of light pain.

"I think you can give a little more," Benedetta says.

"What are you thinking?"

"Tell me about your home life."

"Please, not that. Leave everyone else out of it. This was my mistake."

"Relax, no one is getting hurt. Just the opposite."

Lauren gulps. "I'm divorced. I work long hours. There's nothing exciting about me. I'm an average, everyday woman who's good with numbers and finances. My home life has nothing of value, but I can assure you, I will pay you back."

"You see, that's where you're wrong. Your personal life has great value. I've seen your online profiles and social media."

In that moment, a surge of regret strikes Lauren knowing that this woman has seen her personal photos. For the last many years she'd been told by colleagues that having a reasonable social media presence linked to your professional website helps build your career. It creates trust, it makes you look like an honest person. Now those decisions are coming back to haunt her.

"What do you mean?" Lauren asks.

"Dating? Boyfriend?"

"That's not a priority at the moment."

"Sex? Anyone fucking you?"

Lauren shakes her head. "No, no. I only do that in relationships. I've been single."

"You see, this is where you have value. If you do what I say, then all will be forgiven."

She hesitates, then nods. "What do I have to do?"

"You live with your son, correct?"

The question makes Lauren shiver. What does her own son have to do with anything? She wants to argue back, to put up a fight, but her fear has gotten the better of her. Being nude and standing before these two has brought her defenses to an all-time low, but being honest, she never had much defense to begin with.

"I live with my son. That's right."

Her voice has lowered, almost trembling.

Benedetta's eyes go up and down. "With a body like yours, has your son ever looked at you?"


"Answer the question."

"It's normal for young men to look."

"Is he mature for his age? His personality."

"He's starting a job internship soon."

"Mature enough to become a father?"

Lauren gasps. "Where is this going?"

"Let me show you something."

She stands there nude with her hands down, but this time her hands are trembling as she watches this mafia woman getting a phone. The son is sitting back with a nonchalant demeanor while watching this unfold.

After a few swipes on the phone screen, Lauren is shown an image. Right away she recognizes Benedetta in the picture, but what shocks her to the core is that this mafia figure was posing fully nude with a pregnant belly, while the son was standing right behind her, also nude. Both mother and son were embracing each other as if they were lovers.

The sight makes Lauren gulp, then she looks away from the uncomfortable image of incest. And it's clear that's what it is -- incest. It all makes sense now. It explains why Benedetta is here alone with her son. It makes her wonder if they'd just had sex, which would explain the shower.

"Tell me what you saw," Benedetta says.

"You were pregnant in that picture."

"Who do you think the father is?"

"I'm afraid to guess. I might be wrong."

"Go on, say it."

"You got impregnated by your son."

Benedetta nods. "Do you know why I'm showing you?"

"Oh god, please..."

"The time to beg is over. Are you fertile?"

"At my age, I'm not sure."

"Try it at your home. Three times a week with your son. He sleeps in your bed. He becomes the man of the house. No condoms or birth control. I expect progress reports and recorded evidence sent to me. Once the debt is paid, then you're free to go, but the pregnancy and aftermath will live forever, assuming you're that lucky."

The room feels like it's spinning as Lauren stands there dumbfounded. To her, this is completely unrealistic. She'd be destroying her own life, and that of her son, but she's too scared to give a forceful rebuttal against these demands. The people associated with Benedetta have killed people before, allegedly.

"How could you ask me to do this?"

Benedetta leans forward and whispers, "Your son will love you more than any husband. I'm doing you a favor. You'll be thanking me soon."

After further clarification is given, Lauren is allowed to get dressed and she puts her clothes on while facing the wall. She's aware of the eyes peering at her backside. Benedetta is pacing around her like a shark, examining her bare body while it's still exposed. She does her best to act brave but she's never been so confused. Her clothes are sloppy after getting dressed, her bra and panties aren't in the right place, her blouse and pants look disheveled. She leaves the room and employees downstairs in the lobby assume she's a prostitute who'd just been fucked because of her unkept appearance at this late hour.


The drive home is the longest ride she's ever experienced. All she can think about is the hotel room. The closer she gets to home, the more she thinks about her son. She'd already made peace with atoning for what she'd done, but her own son? Their relationship would never be the same again.

It's almost midnight when she pulls into the driveway. The lights are left on for her, and when she gets inside, Michael is in his bedroom, door closed and the lights off. She gives a soft knock on the door and enters the darkness of the room. The hallway light shines onto her son's bed, waking him.

"Wake up. We have to talk."

Lauren sits on the bed next to where her son lays. She leaves the room light off, the hallway light is more than enough for this conversation.

She explains everything. The mafia client, sending a portion of their money to charity, being asked to strip nude, the picture of Benedetta pregnant and bare. The incest. The blackmail. This revelation leaves Michael shaken because Lauren is a practical woman who never jokes or exaggerates.

"These are dangerous people," she says. "We could try the witness protection program, I've already looked into it. But that might leave the rest of our family at risk."

"We can't do anything to put our family at risk. Are you sure we can't bargain with them?"

"I wish it were that simple."

Her heart breaks seeing Michael laying there, turning his head away to process the news. His adult life had only just begun with the downtown internship starting next week. He sacrificed much of his free time to be able to break into the financial world as a new entry.

"How would it work?" he asks. "You know, hypothetically."

"Well, I'm expected to give proof. And I'm expected to explain myself, how things are progressing."

"How long would it last? When could you pay them back?"

"That depends on how much we sacrifice financially. I refuse to sell our house. That will never happen. We have too many family memories here. But realistically, it would take two or three years, if we budget correctly."

"Were they really mother and son? Benedetta, I mean, was she really with her son in that picture?"

"Yes, it was clear that they were biological mother and son. They had similar facial features, and the way they acted around each other, it was obvious."

"That's insane," he says.

"I know. All this time I thought Benedetta was a legitimate business woman. I was fooled. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because I put us in this situation."

"I'm sure we can figure this out. We can handle anything."

The hallway light illuminates Michael's face and he's never looked so beautiful to her. He's right, ever since it became just the two of them, they did figure out their way in life. Together. As a duo. Lauren had led them through dark times and it only brought them closer together.

But what is he implying? Lauren wonders if her son is actually considering going through with this wicked plan. On the drive home, she was certain her son would favor joining the witness protection program, in fact she'd been preparing herself mentally to have that conversation. Not this, whatever this is.

She slips her hand beneath the blanket and toward her son's crotch. She's never touched it before. This is a violation. But through her son's shorts, her hand presses on top. What she finds is something that changes this entire dynamic, perhaps even their lives, forever.

"You're hard," she says.


"What got you this way?"

"You don't want to know."

"Tell me. We have to be honest with each other if we're going to make it."

"The thought of Benedetta with her son."

"You don't even know what she looks like," Lauren says.

"It was the thought of it."

"The thought of a mother being impregnated by her son?"

Her asking that question caused Michael's cock to twitch, with her hand right over it. This is by far the most surreal sexual moment of her life. She'd always thought her son was handsome and their relationship was always based around maternal love, never anything blatantly sexual like touching or wayward desires.

"Yes," he says.

"They were both nude in the picture. Benedetta was several months along with a large belly, and her son was behind her, holding her, with a big cock dangling. They posed together like lovers."

Her comment made Michael's cock swell and Lauren could see the embarrassment on his face, yet he made no effort to conceal the erection or try to move. No effort to push her away or stop this intimate touching by a mother.

Lauren turns away to make this easier, looking at the darkness of the room while stroking her son's erection through the shorts. After enough strokes to make this more palatable, she slips her hand beneath the shorts and touches her son's bare penis. The cock jerks against her fingers. She gets a firm grip and glides up and down. This gets a physical reaction out of her son's body and she can see him writhing there in bed.

Any doubt she had about doing this is starting to disappear. Despite the conflict in her heart, it's clear that they're both capable of crossing the forbidden line. Michael doesn't say a word and neither does she. The only sound in the room is the sound of the blanket ruffling from fast jacking.

Before her son ejaculates, Lauren reaches for the tissue box on the small bedside table and grabs a tissue with her free hand. With one hand she keeps stroking the hard cock, the other hand wraps the tissue around the head. She listens to her son moaning, feels his body tense as she leans her arm on his body, and she feels wetness seeping through the thin tissue as she catches the cum.

She takes her hand away and gives the head a wipe with the folded tissue. She fixes the shorts and blanket so everything would be in the right place. Then she kisses her son's forehead and cheek. Tender kisses. Loving kisses.

"Everything will be alright," she says. "I promise."

Michael is too speechless to respond, maybe it's better that way, and Lauren gets up to leave, closing the bedroom door and then going to her room. It's been a long night, the longest night of her life. She washes her hand in the bathroom and there are slight traces of cum on her fingers that seeped through the tissue.


It's the next night when they're in Lauren's bedroom. She's wearing a long nightgown and he's wearing the usual tshirt and shorts. Dinner and the rest of the evening had been less awkward than anticipated. All night there was this lingering feeling that this was inevitable. Neither of them could fight against the mafia, neither of them were interested in joining witness protection and upending their hard earned lives, and neither of them wanted to put the rest of their family at risk.

And maybe, deep down, in the darkest corners of their hearts, they knew they could live with the consequences of coupling with each other. That maybe they could learn to enjoy it.

Lauren drops her nightgown, standing nude in front of Michael is a different sensation than in the hotel room. Now she's with someone who loves her and respects her and will actually care for her body. She's with her flesh and blood. She birthed this young man. She notices Michael's stiffening body language and ogling eyes. She doesn't try to hide herself or cover up.

She turns on her phone's video recorder and props it on the table so that it's facing the bed. It's her first time ever recording herself in a sexual act which makes her uncomfortable, but she'd been mentally preparing herself for this moment all day.

After a deep breath she pulls the blanket and lays in the center of the bed. There was very little discussion about how this would work but she's certain her son would be respectful. She's giving Michael the ultimate gift, besides her love, which is full access to her body. As she looks at the ceiling, she listens to the sound of her son undressing. She doesn't want to look, it isn't important. This isn't about pleasure, but about staying alive. Sexual pleasure is merely a byproduct.

Her son climbs on top, she gets the impression that he's already erect because he's aiming something between her spread legs. There's nothing in terms of condoms or birth control. At her age pregnancy is unlikely. All throughout the day her focus was on clients, money, and sex with her son. This is about moving on with their lives.

As she's being penetrated, Lauren does her best to pretend this is another man. A random lover of some kind. That had been her plan before this started. But it's impossible. Her son's youthful face is inches from hers. She hadn't had a lover this young since she was in college herself. Michael is staring right at her. And this is the most gentle she's ever been treated. When she was younger, guys just wanted to fuck. As an adult, men wanted passion. But her son, it's different. Michael is shattering a forbidden wall, doing this with love, being ultra cautious about this, scared even. Something about this moment lights a flame in her.