Lacey's Story Pt. 03


So I shout. I scream. I call to him, "Michael! Michael!" I beg for him to stop, to come to me, to come to Mother, I will do anything, he can do anything, as long as it is to me and no other. At last, he relents, pulling free from her mouth with a soft pop. Her father hands her off to him, and Michael drags the girl by the hair over to me. He pushes her down to her knees before me, all the while staring deeply into my eyes.

"I brought you something, Mother."

I shake my head. No, please, no. Not that. Anything but that. I look down between us, and Emily is staring up at me with soft doe-eyes, pretty as an angel, until the effect is ruined by the obscene way she wets her lips. Michael pushes her head forward until those wet lips touch my pussy, holding her by a fistful of hair, as if she's a mere instrument, another device with which to pleasure and torment me.

Then the maddening, devilish, delicious abuse begins. She might have been quite young, but it's clear from the outset that the girl knows her way around a vagina. I pressed my thighs tightly together at first, but her tongue was persistent, pushing in and upward, tickling mercilessly, until I can't bear it anymore and open my legs to her. She laps my juices eagerly with no prodding from Michael, who is now only loosely holding her hair and is still staring into my eyes.

"Oh, Michael," I gasp.

"I know," he nods. "She's very good, Mother. She's been well-trained by her parents."

I whimper deep in my throat. She stabs her stiffened tongue deep inside my canal, retreats, stabs again, as fast as a wasp stings, then withdrawing and flattening her tongue to run it slowly up my opening until she reaches my pulsating clit, swiping the tip back and forth and then up and down and then with rapid butterfly-light strokes until my hips are jerking and I'm straining forward trying to grind my pussy into that young, innocent face. The tip of her tongue vibrates against me with seemingly impossible speed.

"Lift your leg for her, Mom," Michael orders, and I dutifully comply, pulling up my left leg and holding it out from my body while I precariously balance on my right. The girl presses her entire mouth over my yawning hole. Michael lets go over her hair, gathers my face in his strong hands, and kisses deeply, his tongue pushing into my mouth, a masculine counterpoint to the feminine tongue slathering my cunt. Right when I reach the point of no return, oh, I should have expected it! he breaks the kiss and grabs her hair and pulls her back. The loss of that expert tongue hits me like a physical blow.

"No, no, no, no, no!" I cry, dropping my leg and tiptoeing forward till the chains stop me, trying to smash my pussy back onto her mouth. She is so close! That pretty little mouth, I can feel her hot breath . . . Her face shines with my juices and she is so very beautiful . . . I look down at her delicate features, my head spinning, and then the little minx slowly and deliberately licks her lips, smiling sweetly at me.

Michael twists her long hair in his hand and hurls her upstage, where Emily's father gathers her up with a gentle kiss and escorts her off.

"Michael, my baby, please, please, Mother was so close . . . so close . . . please, may I? Please, Michael, will you finish me? Please finish me."

The crowd begins to chant, slowly at first and very softly, then with increasing volume and speed, "Finish her. Finish her. Finish her, finish her, FINISH HER!"

"Really, Mother?" Michael asks, smirking. "You want that, in front of all these people? What kind of slut are you that you would enjoy such a thing?"

I twist back and forth, pressing my thighs tightly together. Oh, the shame is so intense, but nothing is as intense as the aching inside, the frustration of being brought to the brink and then denied. Michael signals off-stage and the chains come rattled down. I collapse into a miserable, crying heap on the floor, drawing my knees to my chest. Either this pose or my misery inspires my son, for he pushes me onto my back with the toe of his polished dress shoe and instructs me to hold my knees, to keep them up. Now I'm staring straight up into the dark rafters of the theater, knees pressed against my chest, my lady parts pointed directly at the cheering crowd. At least, I think, I don't have to see them! But that is little comfort. A thousand pairs of eyes are looking at my dripping, exposed pussy. I feel so humiliated and betrayed. My distress isn't quite enough for Michael, apparently. Simply exposing me isn't quite satisfying enough.

He kneels to one side of me and spreads me open, as wide as his fingers can pull me.

"Now they can see everything, Mother," he whispers.

I whimper, words failing me. I beg him with my eyes to end this. It is in his power. With a few hard thrusts of his prick, he can finish it. He puts his finger to my quivering lips. Forces the tip against my teeth.

"Suck," he orders, and I obey, tightening my lips around his finger as he pushes it deep into my mouth. He grunts, his beautiful brown eyes widening with lust. He pulls out his finger and swings his leg over my head, and his cock fills the entirety of my vision, dangling directly over my eyes, the swollen round head glistening with pre-cum. The crowd falls silent in breathless anticipation. I watch, mesmerized, as the thick, clear liquid slowly drips from his cock, and my mouth opens to receive him.

His cock sinks ever so slowly into my mouth. I am his receptacle. I am an object to be used and displayed for others' pleasure. My worth only extends to the limit of his pleasure and no farther. I am his mother and his whore.

His cock pistons in and out, pushing deeper with each powerful thrust. I hug my knees tightly to my chest; he doesn't need to tell me to keep myself exposed for the audience. And the world is my son's cock. His balls smash against my nose as he grinds all the way down. All the universe is his smell. He growls and grunts like some feral beast, delighted by my suffering and shame, thrilled by his complete control of me.

He pulls from my mouth before he explodes. He spins me around like a top. "Open them," he growls. With a sob of lust and relief, I spread my legs, splayed wide open for him now, my bottom rising from the stage floor in invitation. "Put your legs up in the air like a good slut," he commands. I straighten my legs into a V, raising my head to admire him looming over me, an erotic colossus, drenched in sweat under the hot stage lights, pulsing cock pointing toward the rafters. He shakes his head. "Don't look at me, slut. Who gave you permission to look at me?"

He grabs me by the ankles and pushes forward. My bottom rises high into the air. I fling my arms wide to keep from flipping over. In the wings offstage I can see the silhouettes of people watching. It feels as if the entire world is watching. I hear Michael's voice; I can't see his face, "Look at you, you poor thing. You're in a bad way, aren't you?" I feel his finger touch my clitoris. Tapping. Tap, tap, tap. Oh, it's agony. My body twitches and jerks. My mouth falls open in a silent scream. Tap, tap, tap.

"Ten," he says. Ten? What did he mean? He popped by clitty hard. "Nine . . . eight . . . seven . . ." A countdown. And with each number he speaks, another tap, until he reaches five, and then his finger falls and does not rise again but rubs, pressing firmly and speeding up, oh, my, speeding up. "Four . . . three . . . two . . . ONE!"

And now I do scream, legs kicking, head whipping back and forth, and Michael is shouting over my cries, "Cum, you whore, cum for them!"

"Oh god I'm a whore, I'm a fucking whore, I'm a fucking nasty whore!"

The walls themselves shake with the thunder of the applause. They are on their feet, whistling, shouting, stamping their feet. Before my orgasm subsides, Michael drops me to the floor and instead of entering me as I expect, he pumps his cock furiously until streams of cum shoot over my body, arcing in the air like water from a fountain, drenching me in his seed. Denying me his cock is the last act of my humiliation and denial and I never loved him more completely or totally as I do in that moment.

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by Anonymous

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by xxelo08/18/18

Luv it!

Totally agree with ualbanygirl
If you don t like a story then back of
I personally luv the combination of incest and bdsm
And because of the incest involved it can t be placed antwhere else

Please continuemore...

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by UAlbanyGirl51808/13/18

C’mon People!

What I’m trying to say is that we all have our kinks and boundaries, which are as vast and varied as the number of free accounts on this site. Just because a story contains one of your boundary topicsmore...

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by UAlbanyGirl51808/13/18

How dare you!

Dear Author -

I come to the particular Category to read free stories about barely legal aged family members having sex with each other, an act that is illegal in many states and condemned by most organizedmore...

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by Anonymous08/11/18


This is fucken gross

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by prop6908/11/18

Stories are worse

These should be in BDSM

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