Worst? Nightmare Come True

Thank you again for your kind reception of my other works! It definitely encourages me to keep writing. I had another idea, and I just had to get it down while it was fresh.

This is based on a nightmare (or dream of an unconscious desire?) that I had last night. I was definitely in some kind of distress afterwards when I awoke. (Horny? Maybe a tad. Questioning my psyche? Absolutely.)

Includes elements of: Reluctance/noncon, anal play, in front of mom, cuckholded bf

May contain triggering descriptions.

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"Mom, try this," I said, plating a slice of banana bread I had just freshly baked. "It has walnuts this time. The one I baked last time was really good, but I thought it would be even better if I added some crushed walnuts to it!"

My mom took a seat at the kitchen table, and I flitted over to her excitedly. Silly of me, I knew, but I was excited to share my newest creation. I felt like a baking fairy.

My mother was kind enough to share in my joy. She smiled at the neat, fragrant little serving.

"It does look really good."

"Right? Ahhh, I'm excited for you to try it. Do you want some coffee with it?" I asked, already reaching for the kettle.

"That would be nice, of course."

I filled up the kettle with filtered water from the sink and set it to boil. I went back to my loaf of banana bread and sliced another piece to plate for myself. When I turned around from the counter to join my mom at the table, I saw she was already half-way finished with her slice. I chuckled as I settled into the chair in front of her.

"What? You're already almost done? What about the coffee? It would have been so much better with the coffee."

"It just looked so good! I wanted to try it."

"Well? What do you think?"

"It's good! Very good. It's delicious."

"Do you think it's better with or without the walnuts?"

"I personally do like it with the walnuts. I think you get better each time."

I beamed at the compliment. Mom paused her eating and indicated the untouched slice in front of me.

"You're not gonna try it?"

"You know me. I try to enjoy everything to the fullest. I like the whole experience! I want to feel the full luxury of having coffee to complement this hopefully divine walnut-banana bread."

I turned in my seat to check the kettle. It was steaming. Good enough for me. I liked my coffee hot, but it didn't need to be boiling. I tore and spilled a packet each of instant coffee (luxurious, I know) into two separate tea cups and followed up with a stream of hot water. I poured a little less water in Mom's, because she preferred her coffee stronger. I placed the cups onto the respective places in front of us. Mom now only had a bite of banana bread left on her plate.

"You want more with that?"

"Yeah!"

Smiling, I cut another slice for her. We ate together at the table, enjoying the bitter warmth of coffee as it cut through the flavors and textures of soft, sweet banana bread and the dull crunch of baked walnuts.

There was a sudden knock at the door.

"I got it." Reflexively, I jumped up to check. I peered through the peephole, and a frightening sight peered back. It was a male stranger, and he set off all the alarms in my system. I pulled back.

"Who is it?" My mom asked, curiosity in her voice.

"I don't know... It looks bad." I said, a little incoherent from my shock.

Mom got up from the table to have a look for herself. And did something I never would have expected.

She opened the door.

"What are you doing?! I told you he looked dangerous!" In the blink of an eye, I had flung myself at the door to close it, adrenaline flooding my veins and fueling my powered movements, but it was too late.

He had already managed to wedge a shoulder through the crack of the door and prevented it from closing.

Feverishly, I continued to struggle, not caring if I was slamming the door on him, but I felt so powerless. He bulled through easily, with two others close behind him.

He pulled a gun to my head.

Everything stopped. Time froze. For me, anyway.

I was just barely aware that my mom must have been restrained in some way, too. Though how and by whom, I couldn't say. I could barely even make out the features of the man in front of me, the man with the gun at my head.

All my senses were fixated on the hard metal pressed to my temple.

I felt cold, numb, and tingly all at once. My legs felt like rooted trees. My body was anticipating being shot. The problem was, it was so confused about when the pain might be coming. I knew I was going to be shot, but I had no idea when. My whole body was in shock, and my brain was fogged in disbelief.

Were they saying anything? I couldn't even tell. It's like I went deaf and mute and partially blind. I just knew I had to be obedient. I knew I couldn't win.

Somehow, I was suddenly aware that I was completely naked below the waist and bent over the kitchen table, the plates and cups my mom and I had used seconds? minutes? ago, strewn and cracked over the floor. The banana bread was in chunks and crumbs, and the coffee splashed brown on the tiles. That much, I could see. When did this happen?

I felt his penis probing my entrance.

Finally, I felt something. Finally, my body responded. I forgot about the gun.

Fear replaced the numbness in my chest. I gasped in the first breath I took in what felt like hours. I frantically pushed my hands back against my assailant. Then I tried to block him from entering.

Again, it was too late. And again, it was so easy for him.

I felt him pushing into me.

It wasn't slow or rushed, but I felt the entrance of his cock with every nerve I had. I don't think his cock was even extraordinarily large or small, just... normal.

It was surreal to me how "normal" and "natural" it all felt under the circumstances. No pomp and circumstance, but not much struggle or resistance, either.

I had felt every moment of his entrance. How I felt stretched by the slightly wider tip of the head of his cock as it pressed and pushed and made way, and the instant relief when the ever-so-slightly slimmer remaining length stroked along the same surfaces. How he pushed patiently all the way until the V-line in his hips pressed flush against my ass. How full and complete I felt with the whole of him tight within my pussy.

How I could perceive the size of his dick and the molding of my vaginal walls around him.

I hadn't even seen what his penis looked like. I was blind to the world, but I could vividly visualize all this in my head.

I uttered a moan. I couldn't help it. It just felt fucking right, fucking good.

But as soon as it left my lips, a sudden shock to my system-- where was my mom?

Was she behind me somewhere, forced to watch? Was the same thing happening to her in another room or nearby? Did she hear me? Did she think I was enjoying myself? I felt at once cold with fear all over again and hot with burning shame.

He picked this moment to i/move/ and just-- God.

God.

My belly felt hot. I couldn't tell you where I was or who I was with or what position I was in anymore-- my vision was blindingly white-- but I could tell you there was a dick in my pussy, and it was just fucking good.

I groaned and felt absolutely shattered as he moved in a stable and established pace.

He pushed in just deep enough to make me feel utterly full without there being any kind of pain. I felt twisted, because my mom was dimly in the shadow of my conscienceness, but I couldn't stop the wanton sounds coming from my lips. There was almost a part of me that wished she wasn't here so I that I could enjoy this fully without the expectation of shame that would inevitably follow.

(What am I thinking???)

I finally felt the coldness of the table underneath me, because I was clawing at its surface with my fingers. I didn't want to stand anymore, so the weight of my torso was completely on the table, and my legs were free to lock and my toes to curl in pleasure.

A hand felt its way between the apex of my legs, and the tips of his fingers found my clit. I squeaked and trembled as he used the wetness we created together to lube his ministrations against my most sensitive parts. My body alternated between states of seizing up and shuddering in wracking climax to melting into a relaxed puddle of bliss.

I don't remember how many cycles of these states I went through, but he finally removed his hand. Both relief and disappointment washed through my bloodstream. I moaned and finally gathered some strength in my legs to push back against him. I was fully and officially a slut. I wanted it. Was this even rape anymore? Or was it still rape if that's how it started? If I were aroused without my consent, was this still at all my fault?

I froze again-- And was my mom watching? What would she think?

Cold terror pooled in the pit of my stomach. I just felt absolutely torn apart by my thoughts and feelings.

A lubricated finger probed against my asshole. I yelped and readjusted the strength in my legs that I had used to thrust against him to pull forward and away from the intruding finger, but too little and too late.

He twisted in slowly, pushing, pushing, pushing, then retreating. Pushing again, pushing, pushing, and retreating. Again and again, and I felt every millimeter of his progress, every millimeter of the inside of my ass that felt hot against the coolness of his finger.

I had stopped resisting and my mouth was agape as I fully took in the sensations. He was still fucking my pussy, and I was so wet now there was a squelching slap each time he thrusted. There was a whole finger in my ass, and it made my spine tingle. He kept the full length of his finger inside me and simply twisted it back and forth. There was a snarling and guttural growling sound coming from somewhere.

It was coming fron me. My throat vibrated with the intensity of my animalistic vocalizations.

I couldn't help it. Fucking my pussy was good, but there was something primal and raw about having my asshole stretched.

I probably could have died then, and it wouldn't have mattered. I had already left the mortal plane some time ago.

The fucking intensified, and I finally felt some pain as the table dug into my hips as he pummeled me into it. There was suddenly the unmistakable sharp feeling of my cervix bruising, but at this point, I wanted nothing less.

There was no pain, only barbaric pleasure as he pressed a second finger into my asshole, and I felt his cock stiffen and twitch inside of me. He thrusted with each splurt that exploded from him inside of me.

He pulled out immediately after his release, which shocked me back into reality. What, was I expecting him to stay and leave his cock inside my pussy until it wilted completely, the way a lover might have?

A lover.

My boyfriend, fuck.

My sweet, loving boyfriend who was so good to me-- what would he think of this?

Even more worrying and twisted-- of course my boyfriend and I had had sex multiple times but... I couldn't remember a single moment all of a sudden. My past memories of sex had been fucked clean away.

...Had it ever been this good? I really couldn't fucking say.

Oh, my mom... My mom, where was she? Did she see all this? Hear all this? Was I even worried about what had happened to her, or more occupied with what she would think of me?

I was alone now, on my knees on the cold kitchen floor, cum pooling on the tiles underneath me. It was suddenly quiet, and there wasn't any movement. Our door was wide open, and the intruders were gone. It felt like they hadn't ever been here.

No consequences for them.

But I had to think about my mom, my boyfriend. My family, my friends, my future.

Me.

How would I ever face me?