tagNonConsent/ReluctanceIt Was My Son's Fault

It Was My Son's Fault


Hi my name is Rhonda, I'm 45-year-old white woman from upstate NY. You asked me to share my story with your group. I'm not a writer but I will try my best.

About 5 years ago my husband came home one day and told me he wanted a divorce. I was shocked cause I never saw it coming. I thought we had the perfect life. We had two children, a boy and a girl, and a beautiful home. My husband started a consulting company that did very well. I stayed home and raised our children. My life was spent taking care of the kids. When my husband packed his things and left I asked him if he was leaving me for another women. He told me that he was just tired of this life. He said he needed to find himself. He told me a bunch of other crap but he swore it wasn't another woman. He sold off his company for about 5 million dollars. In the divorce settlement I got half. He paid off our home and gave me 2.5 million dollars for the kids and me. Then he just disappeared.

My son Arthur took it hard. He was only ten years old at the time and he was very close to his father. I thought my husband loved him. But after the divorce was complete my husband disappeared and we never heard from him again. My daughter was 15 years old at the time and took it a lot better then my son. She was wrapped up into her own life. I knew deep down she was in pain but she never cried nor did she ever act out. My son on the other hand became distant. We argued constantly. Sometimes he wouldn't speak to me for weeks.

My daughter graduated High School when she was 18 years old and went off to college. That left my son and me alone in the house. Like I said in the beginning, my husbands business did quite well. After our son was born my husband wanted to get a bigger house. I remember when he came home and told me he had just bought a house. At first I was a little upset. I thought we would at least see the house together before he bought it. The house was gigantic. It was the biggest house on the street in a very affluent neighborhood. I fell in love with it as soon as I saw it. What really grabbed me was the size of the kitchen. It was almost three times as big as the kitchen in out first house. It was beautiful, and it had something that I had always wanted, it had a center island.

When my son was 15 he started hanging around with a bunch thugs. Soon I found out he was drinking and smoking marijuana. I tried to talk to him about it. But he told me to shut up. He told me to leave him alone. I tried to ground him, but he went out any way. I gave him a curfew but he came home when he wanted to. Nothing I tried worked. One day I came home and found a bunch of his friends in my house doing drugs. I flipped out and went crazy. I threw those hooligans out of my house and told them if I ever caught them around here again I'd call the cops. My son was stoned out of his mind. He told me to go fuck myself and ran out of the house with his friends. After I cleaned up the beer cans and got rid of the liquor bottles I went up to his room. I smoked pot when I was in high school. I didn't really think it was all that bad. I had a feeling my son was into something much worse. He was only 15 years old and some of the people I threw out of my house looked a lot older then him.

I went straight up to his room and started ripping it apart. I found all kinds of drug paraphernalia. I found pips, bongs, rolling papers and a bunch of other things that I just knew were for drug use. What I was really was looking for were needles. While I searched through his stuff I prayed and hoped I wouldn't find any needles. I prayed that my son wasn't hooked on heroin.

After searching his draws, I went into his closet. I found a box that just looked out of place. When I opened the box I found a small digital scale and a big bag of white powder. I just stared at it. I knew what it was. It was cocaine. And there was a lot of it. Kids like to think of there parents as goodie goodie's. They think we are so stupid as though we are born parents and where never kids ourselves. I've been to parties and I've watched people snort cocaine. I never tried it because I was too scared.

My son was out of control. I knew that if he was doing cocaine at the age of 15 that by the time he turned 19 he would probably be into heroin. I knew I had to get him some help. I made up my mind. I was going to put him in Re-hab. I grabbed all the pipes, bongs etc. and tossed it in the garbage. I took the big bag of cocaine cut it open and flushed all of it down the toilet.

My son came home a few hours later and ran up to his room. I followed him. When he opened the door to his room his face dropped.

"What have you done to my room you fucking Bitch." He screamed.

My son has said nasty things to me in the past but he never called me a bitch before. Then he dashed towards the closet.

"Arthur, you need help son…. you're a junkie…. and you're out of control"

"Mom…where's the fucking box…where is it.," he said while he franticly rummaged through the closet.

"You need help…. You're not going to find anything….I flushed it all."

My son turned around and ran toward me. I was scared to death. He grabbed me around neck and started screaming.

"I'm a fucking dead man…. that wasn't my Coke, it didn't fucking belong to me."

I could see the tears in his blood shot eyes. He let go of me and grabbed his backpack. He started stuffing cloths in it.

"Arthur…. what are you doing…where are you going?" I asked.

He didn't respond to me. He kept on repeating, "I'm a dead man…. I'm a dead man."

I tried to block him from leaving but he pushed me out of the way and ran out of the house. I just sat there and cried. He never came back home that night. I thought about calling the police but I was afraid that if they caught him they might find drugs on him.

The next morning I called my friend Sally, She was the only one I knew I could talk to. I told her what happened and she told me that she knew what I was going through. She told me that her eldest son who just graduated law school had a similar problem. I was shocked to find out about this. She came clean with me. She asked me if I remembered when they sent their son to boarding school. She told me that he wasn't really in boarding school that year. She told me they sent him away to intense rehabilitation center. She told me they kept it secret from everyone they knew. She gave me all the information about the re-hab and whom I should call.

I sat around all day waiting for my son to come home. I didn't know what to do and who to turn to. I was still afraid to call the police. I didn't want my business to get around the neighborhood either. Later on that day I finally decided to call the Rehabilitation Clinic that my friend had suggested. I made an appointment to talk to one of there counselors for 10am the next day. I spent the entire night staring out the window hoping to see my son. I sat there till 2am. I was exhausted by that point, so I went upstairs and cried myself to sleep.

They next morning I woke up and took a shower. My bedroom was on the second floor at the far end of my house. I must have been really tired because I didn't wake up until 8:30 am. After I got dressed and put on my shoes I started walking toward the stairs that led down stairs. When I reached the top of the stairs I smelled coffee. I knew new I didn't set the up the coffee machine before I went to bed. Then I heard the refrigerator door close. I got so excited; my son was home. I practically ran down the stairs. I was wearing heals and almost fell flat on my face. I didn't care at that moment. All I wanted to do was hold my son in my arms and try to help him.

I ran in the Kitchen "Arthur…. Arthur."

When I turned the corner I didn't see my son. There was a man sitting at my table drinking coffee.

"Who…. who…Are you? And what the hell are you doing in my house?"

Imagine walking into your own kitchen and finding a strange man sitting at your table. He looked like one of the street thugs I threw out the other day but I wasn't sure. He looked a lot older then a high school kid. He was a white man and he was wearing all black cloths and dark sunglasses I was scared but I didn't want this person to know that I was afraid. He didn't even answer me. He slowly put his hand on the table and took another sip of his coffee.

I screamed at him, "I'm gonna call the police if you don't get the fuck out of my house.".

I was trying my best to sound tuff and mean. But in reality I was scared out of my mind.

"I don't think you want to do that Mrs. Alexander…. I think you better chill the Fuck Out."

"Who are you!" I asked.

I was scared and when he said my name it stopped me dead in my tracks."

"My name is not important right now lady…. What's important is what your fucking son owes me."

"My…Son…. What have you done with him?…Where is he...?"

"He's In good hands Lady…well at least for know he is…. I'm just here to get my stuff."

"I'm calling the cops…if you hurt my son…I'll have you arrested."

I ran over to the phone that was on the kitchen wall. I picked up the phone and there was no dial tone. That's when he started laughing.

"Don't even bother lady, I cut the phone lines outside while you were in the shower."

I didn't know what to do. There was a strange man in my house. I tried to remain cool, but I couldn't. That's when I started crying. Then he got up and started walking toward me.

"Look lady…I don't want any trouble…. I just want my stuff and I'll leave…Just give me my coke…and I'll leave you alone and I tell my buddies to let your boy go."

"I don't have your coke…I….I… flushed it."

He didn't say a word, he just bent his head down, and then he looked up and at lunged at me and wrapped his hands around my neck.

"You stupid fucking bitch…your son told me you flushed it. But I didn't believe him. I thought he was trying to fuck me out of my money."

He had his hands around my neck with my back against the wall. Just like he thought my son was lying to him, I thought my son was lying to me when he told me that the drugs didn't belong to him. When my son kept on repeating, "I'm a dead man…I'm a dead man." I didn't know what he meant by it. It wasn't till this moment that I under stood what he meant.

"Let me go you fucking Bastard…. Get the fuck off me…I don't have your fucking drugs."

Then he stepped back and smacked me hard across my face knocking me to the ground. The blow rocked my entire body. I've never been in a fight before; my parents never even spanked me as a child. I got up and tried to run away. That's when he grabbed me by my arm.

"See what you get lady…See what happens…I tried to be nice to you…I'm warning you bitch…. Do Not Piss Me Off…. Remember I have your son."

"What do you want?…. What do you want?…I told you I flushed the drugs. There not here."

He was angry, although I couldn't see it in his I eyes I could tell by the way he was gritting his teeth.

"You flushed my fucking coke lady…that was a dumb…your son was supposed to deliver that coke to one of my clients and bring me back $8,000 bucks…You flushed'em

You Bought'em…You owe me eight grand bitch and I ain't leaving here until I get my dough."

I couldn't believe what was happening to me in my own home. I was scared and crying. My ear was still ringing from being slapped in the face.

"I don't have that kind of money…. And even if I did…how do I know you won't hurt me or my son."

"Look bitch…I don't give a fuck about you or your fucking son. You're gonna give me fucking money…or else."

I had no idea what he meant by or else. I always kept money in the house. I had a safe up stairs in my bedroom. I knew I had $ 10,000 dollars in there. My husband had always kept money in the safe. He always said that a person should always keep hard cash around the house. He kept money in the house in case there was a glitch at the bank or if something crazy ever happened. When he left, I put some cash in there and basically forgot about it.

Then he grabbed me buy my hair and threatened me. He told me if I didn't give him his money he was going to call his friends on his cell phone and tell them to beat my son to death. I told him I had the money upstairs. He grabbed me by my arm and said, "Let's go.

I walked upstairs and went into my bedroom. He never let go of my arm. I opened the safe and grabbed the stack of hundred dollar bills. Then he led me back down stairs to the kitchen.

I handed him the entire stack of money. I told him to just take it all and get out of my house. He told me to shut up. And then he gave me an evil look. He counted the money very fast. He put 8,000 dollars on one side and he put the rest of the money on another side.

"Please call your friends…. You got your money, and some…please call your friends and tell them to let my some go."

Then he said,

"Ok lady… your right…. I'll call my friends…. right after you suck my cock."


I thought I didn't hear him right, I thought my fears were making up things in my mind. Then he calmy repeated himself.

"You heard what I said bitch…I'll leave, just as soon as you finish sucking my cock…You don't get it do you lady… You don't have a choice…. You're gonna suck my fucking dick…. and your gonna do a good job. You have no idea the amount of stress you and you stupid fuck'in son has caused me."

I was repulsed by his request.

"Are you crazy…I'm not gonna suck your cock."

Before I could say another word he slapped me hard with a back of his hand on the other side of my face.

"Ok bitch…If you don't suck my cock I'm gonna kick your fucking ass and then I'm gonna fuck you."

Then he dropped his pants down to his ankles. His cock was rock hard and pointing slightly upwards.

"Oh my God…He's going to rape me" I thought to myself.

"Please don't make me do this…I gave you your money and some extra…Please don't make me so this." I begged.

"Listen up you old bitch…I don't have all fucking day…Get on your knees and suck my fucking dick…and you better do a good fucking job…And I better not feel any teeth."

I was terrified and I didn't know what to do. It had been a long time since I was with a man. He grabbed me and pulled me close to his body. Then he wrapped his hands around me and held me tight. My entire body was trembling. For the first time in my life I hated my son. Then he whispered in my ear.

"What's your name lady."

"Rrrrrr Rhonda." I replied with tears in my eyes.

"Look Rhonda…. don't be afraid…I wont hurt you if you do as I say."

I was so confused, one minute this stranger was threatening to beat me up and in the next minute he was holding me in his arms comforting me. It had been a very long time since I was in a mans embrace. He held me so close to his body I could feel his heart beating. Then he whispered softly in my ear,

"Rhoda…. I want you to listen to me…I want you to just do as I say ok…and I promise I wont hurt you."

"Please don't do this to me…I don't want to suck your cock sir."

"Don't call me sir…my name is Kenny…. You may call me Ken if you like"

As he spoke he slowly started to grind himself against me. I could feel his cock growing and getting harder.

"Please Ken I'm an old woman…you don't want me…I'm not good at sucking cock…please Ken let me go…

As I spoke he lowered his hands and put them around my waist. Then he reached up and wiped the tears from my face. I was confused. I couldn't believe what was going on in my own kitchen. It was like we were slow dancing, but you couldn't hear a sound. I was about to beg him to stop when he softly placed a finger on my lips

"Shhhhhhhhh…Don't say anything else Rhonda"

"God…. You're Beautiful Rhonda…. how old are you?" he asked.

I quickly told him that I was 45 years old. Then he started telling me that he loved older women. Then he put his hands on my ass and started rubbing it. I could feel my body swaying with his. I was afraid but I didn't know what I was afraid of. In a weird way I felt safe in his arms. I think what frightened me the most was, not knowing what was going to happen next.

"Can you feel it Rhonda…Can you feel how hard my cock is."

He started rubbing my ass harder pulling me closer and closer to his body. He let go of me for a second so he could remove his leather jacket. A part of me felt trapped and another part of me felt comfort in his warm embrace. My emotions were bouncing all over the place. Then he grabbed me around my waist again and pulled me close to his body again. I didn't know what to do, a part of me wanted to scream. The only thing that was apparent was, he was not going to leave unless I sucked his cock. Then he placed his hands on my shoulders and said,

"Rhonda…I want you to suck my cock…. I want you to get down on your knees and place my cock in your mouth."

I didn't move or say a word. I stared into the dark sunglasses he was wearing. Without saying a word I used my tear stained eyes to plead with him. I could see my face in his dark sunglasses. We stared at each other for a moment. He didn't say a word as he started pushing me down to my knees.

A soon as my knees hit the ground, I found myself face to face with his cock. His cock was hard as a rock. It was about six or seven inches long and very thick. I looked up at him and he smiled. I felt so ashamed; I was ashamed for what I was about to do. I put my head down.

"Don't be ashamed Rhonda…you're doing this for your son…you love your son don't cha?

I couldn't look up at him. All I could do was nod my head.

"Don't worry Rhonda…. No one will ever know…. Now open your mouth and save your sons life."

As soon as I brought my head up he moved in a little closer. Then he placed his cock against my lips. I thought he was going to ram his cock down my throat. Instead he placed his hands on the back of my head and started stroking my hair. I could feel the softness and the hardness of his cock. His cock head felt warm against my lips. Slowly he applied pressure. I could feel his left hand against the back of my head pulling me to his cock. I had no other choice. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth.

I braced myself by placing my hands on his knees. He moaned as soon as the head of his cock entered my mouth.

"Aggghhhh…yeah…Mmmmmm…that's it Rhonda, suck my cock baby."

His whole body tensed up. I thought he was going to ram his cock down my throat. He slowly pulled his cock out to the tips of my lips. He then he slowly entered my mouth again. He did this over and over again, with each movement he slid his cock deeper into my mouth. I could feel his hard cock pulsing and twitching in my mouth.

"OH…God, Rhonda…. Damn baby…. Your mouth feels so fucking good…. yeah suck it like that baby…Yeah…. yeah…. use your hand…. stroke my cock while you suck."

I did as I was told; I reached up and wrapped my right hand around his shaft. His cock was wet and slippery. He never let go of the back of my head while I sucked his cock. He massaged the back of my head while I sucked and stoked his thick cock. His touch was gentle and for a spilt second I forgot where I was. It had been so long since I was with a man. Memories of sucking my husband's cock came to my head. I never minded sucking my husband's cock. I only did it for him when he asked. There were times I wanted to suck his cock. But I didn't want him to think of me like that, I didn't want my husband to think that his wife as some kind of cock-sucking hungry whore. I would only suck his cock if he asked me. It was only then that I did it for him. I would tell myself that it was my duty as his wife to suck his cock.

I was lost in my thoughts. The next thing I knew, I pushed his cock to the side and then I started licking and sucking on his shaft. Then I worked my way down his cock and took his balls into my mouth. The sounds of his enjoyment woke me out of my trance. The sounds brought me back to reality. I felt so embarrassed while I sucked on his balls. This young man was raping my mouth, he told me to suck his cock. He told me to suck his cock or he would hurt my son and me. But he never told me to suck his balls. I felt like a slut. For the first time in my life I felt like a cock-sucking slut.

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