Rape Stories.

Rape Story by Master of female slaves

Paul was 17 the first time he hit his mother, Virginia, a shapely 36 year old with nice, large tits, long dark hair and almond eyes. She had been a single mother and had had Paul at the tender age of 19. It had always been just the two of them and, since becoming a teenager, the boy had grown more and more resentful of his mother’s authority over him. Especially since realizing that he was larger and stronger than was she, it just didn’t seem right that he should have to do what she said and that evening, when she had questioned him about where he was planning to go and with whom then stated that he was forbidden to go, he snapped. Without thinking, he backhanded her so hard it sent her crashing to the floor. At first he stared at her in horror then fear that he would in some way be punished. But, to his great surprise, his mother just stared up at him in shock. Finally, feeling somewhat emboldened by her lack of reaction, he said, “I’m going out now. I’ll be home when I get home.” With that, he walked out the door.

Nothing was said about the matter between mother and son for the entire week and life seemed to be back to normal (except for the bruise on the side of Virginia’s face). Paul did notice, however, that his mother made no more remarks about his failure to make his bed or clean his room but, instead, just quietly did those things for him, and she never questioned him when he decided to go out. When Friday night came the boy, upon seeing his mother dressed as if getting ready to go out and curious as to how much farther he could push things, asked her, “Where are you going?”

“To meet Barbara,” she replied. “For a couple of drinks.”

“Is my dinner ready?” he asked her.

“There are frozen pizzas in the freezer,” she replied. “Just put one in the microwave.”

“No,” he replied as he got up and walked toward her. “I want a real dinner. You can’t go.”

“What do you mean I ‘can’t go’?” Virginia retorted. “Just who do you —– AHHHHH!!!!”

Without warning he grabbed his mother by the hair and wrenched her head back painfully then told her, “Call Barbara and tell her you can’t make it.”

“Paul!” she exclaimed. “Have you gone CARZY? Let me go at once!”

He grabbed her right wrist and twisted her arm behind her back causing her to cry out again. “Call her,” he repeated.

“Son, you are hurting me!” Virginia complained.

Paul increased the pressure on her wrist and wrenched her head back even farther then said, “Call her or I will break your arm!”

“A-all right,” his mother murmured at last. “J-just let go of me —- PLEASE!”

He let go of her wrist but kept her imprisoned by her hair. Virginia picked up the phone and, with trembling hands, dialed her friend’s number. When she got her on the line she made a hasty excuse claiming a sudden headache then rendered her apologies. When she hung up Paul let go of her and quietly said, “Now go and cook me some dinner.”

Once again he expected some terrible retribution to befall him but, again to his bewilderment, nothing happened and his mother meekly went about preparing dinner. As with the first incident, no mention was made concerning it during the entire next week and, to his complete surprise, the next Friday Paul’s mother presented herself in front of her son and told him, “Barbara wants me to go out with her tonight since I had to cancel last week. May I?”

At first the boy just stared at her, surprised that she was actually asking permission but, deciding to take advantage of the situation, he finally asked, “Will you have my dinner ready before you leave?”

“Yes,” she replied quietly.

“Be home by midnight,” he went on, thinking that surely he was pressing his luck but, what the hell? “I’m going out and when I get home I want you here in case I want a snack or something.”

“I will,” his mother replied to his complete surprise. “Thank you.” She then went and began preparing his meal.

Once again, nothing was said between mother and son about it but it was obvious that the dynamics of their relationship had changed. He was now clearly in charge and they both knew it. Paul put this to the test with numerous little demands made upon his mother. One morning, before leaving for school, he told her he wanted clean sheets on his bed when he came home, knowing that it would make her late for work but, upon arrival home that afternoon, he found that she had done it. He didn’t bother to thank her for it. One Saturday night his girlfriend, Adrianne, after telling her parents she was staying over with another girl, spent the night with him. All evening he was certain Virginia would ask when she was going to leave but she never did and she even waited upon the two of them, getting them beverages, snacks, etc upon demand. When Paul and Adrianne went to his room for the night, his mother quietly retired to her own room and, the next morning, prepared breakfast for the two of them without once saying anything about the girl’s stay over.

Paul’s new authority and power began to embolden him until, one night, he decided to commit the ultimate act of dominance. He and his mother were sitting in the living room watching TV when suddenly he picked up the remote and turned it off. Virginia looked at him in surprise and he said, “I feel like doing something else.”

“What, son?” Virginia asked.

“I think I’d like to have my cock sucked, Mom. Get over here and get started.”

“WHAT?” she asked, shocked. “Don’t even joke about such a thing!”

“I’m not joking,” he replied. “I want my cock sucked and your mouth is the only one available.”

“No!” she replied. “I’ve given into you in numerous things lately, things a mother shouldn’t give into her son about, but I’ll not —-!”

Her words were interrupted when Paul got up and backhanded her completely out of her chair and sent her sprawling onto the floor then he kicked her savagely in the rear as she lay there and yelled, “I SAID get over here and suck my cock, bitch!”

“Paul please!” Virginia begged as she curled up into a ball at his feet. “You don’t know what —-!”

He kicked her again then again.

“Paul, please stop!” his mother pleaded. “PLEASE!”

He paused for a moment and asked, “Are you going to do as you were told?”

Now sobbing, the helpless woman nodded. With a triumphant look on his face the boy went and sat back in the chair then said, “Well then get started.”

Wordlessly, his mother got up onto her knees, choked back her sobs, wiped away her tears, crawled over to her son and, her hands trembling, began to take out his erect organ and began performing the service demanded of her. Paul smiled in smug satisfaction as he looked down on his mother humbly ministering to his manhood, sliding her mouth up and down his shaft and caressing him with her tongue.

“Play with my balls,” he commanded and the woman at his feet complied.

“Oh yeah Mom!” he exclaimed. “Yeah, that’s it! God, but you are a good little cock sucker!”

When he reached the point where he could contain himself no longer, Paul grabbed a handful of Virginia’s long hair and held her face anchored in place as he pumped his hot cum down her throat.

When he was finished, Paul zipped his pants up wordlessly. His mother stood and, her head bowed in shame, began to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” the boy demanded.

“T-to the bathroom,” she replied. “To wash my mouth out.”

He shook his head, “Sit back down.”

The woman obeyed without comment.

Paul turned the TV back on but, after awhile, turned it off again. He was aroused once more and was now convinced that there was no limit to what he could make his mother do. “Strip for me,” he commanded.

“Please Paul,” she murmured timidly. “Please don’t make me —-.”

“Do I have to come over there and tear your clothes off?”

She shook her head then quietly walked over to him. Silently, her head hanging, she began to unbutton her blouse. She moved slowly, button by button, her gaze riveted to the floor, unable to make eye contact with her son.

“Don’t take all night,” Paul warned her. Instantly, Virginia quickened her pace.

When she had unbuttoned the last button, she removed the blouse and let it slide of f her arms and onto the floor. Next she opened her jeans and removed them also. Now she was standing in front of her son clad only in her bra and panties. She hesitated.

“Keep going,” the boy commanded.

Reaching behind her back, she unhooked her bra and removed it, revealing her enormous breasts. Her son gaped at them in awe. Finally, the helpless woman took off the panties and stood before her offspring totally naked. Shame and embarrassment engulfed her —– along with something else —- something she PRAYED he would not detect!

Paul stood up and seemed to TOWER over his totally humiliated mother. He reached out and took hold of one of her breasts and began squeezing and pulling it, pinching the nipple and causing her to whimper. GOD, but he felt powerful —- and HORNY! Hurriedly he shed his own clothing and, in a voice dripping with lust and impatience, commanded, “Down on the floor on your back! Legs apart! Knees up!”

Having no other choice, the poor woman assumed the dictated pose and waited passively to be raped on her living room floor by her own son! Paul knelt between his mother’s splayed thighs then lowered himself upon her. The woman moaned as his masculine bulk seemed to crush her small, soft female body. He pressed his mouth down upon hers and she obligingly parted her lips for him, allowing his tongue to invade, knowing she would likely be painfully forced to do it anyway and because ——!

When he finished the kiss, Paul reached down between his mother’s legs intending to play with her captive pussy and hopefully get it somewhat moist. Once his hand was there, however, he stopped and, in surprise, exclaimed, “Holy shit! You’re sopping wet!”

Virginia turned her head aside in mortification. Her terrible secret had been found out!

“You’re hot as hell!” Paul went on. “You WANT me to do this, don’t you?”

Virginia said nothing.

SMACK! Paul slapped his mother hard across the face and growled, “Answer me, bitch!”

Still, the woman made no response as tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

SMACK! Her son hit her again. “ANSWER ME!”

“Paul,” she began. “Please! This is wrong! I’m you MOTHER and you are my SON!”

SMACK! Another slap! “I SAID ANSWER ME!”

“YES!” Virginia finally blurted out sobbing. “God help me, YES!”

“Beg for it, whore,” Paul commanded.

“Oh god!” his mother continued to sob. “Please don’t make me do that!”

SMACK! “I said BEG!”

“P-please,” she finally whimpered.

“Please what?”

“Please do it.”

“Please do what?”

“Oh god!”

He grabbed a nipple and pinched then twisted.

“UHHHH!!!” came Virginia’s tortured groan.

“Please what?” her son persevered.

“P-please f-fuck m-me!” she stammered at last.

“Sure Mom!” her son replied as he let go of the nipple.

With that he shoved himself all the way inside her. Virginia gasped as she was filled —- STRETCHED! Paul pounded away at her like a jackhammer, pounding her poor pussy unmercifully. As he did, he sucked and bit her breasts and occasionally slapped her face or her hip. At first, she just lay there and let herself be used but, gradually, the warmth in her loins made itself felt. Despite her efforts to suppress it, it would not be denied, and soon built up into a raging fire which quickly consumed her. She began to squirm and undulate beneath her son. Soon she was embracing him, wrapping her naked legs around him and murmuring things like, “Fuck me, hurt me, make me your slut!” Then, screaming, she exploded in a thunderous climax just as he, himself, pumped his cum deep into her.

After it was over, Paul got up and started dressing. His mother rose to her knees and knelt there hanging her head in shame.

“Talk to me,” Paul commanded.

“Y-your father,” Virginia began in a subdued tone. “I-I never knew who he was. He was a stranger who grabbed me and raped me one night. I tried to fight, REALLY I did! But he hit me and threatened to hurt me. I was afraid —- TERRIFIED!”

“What else?” her son asked, sensing something.

“I —-,” she began. “I was — was also —- a-aroused! The way he was treating me, DOMINATING me, got me excited. I came for the first time that night and he called me a ‘whore’ and laughed at me as he left.”

She flicked a tear from her eye, “I never told anyone. After that, in my dreams and fantasies, I became obsessed with being treated roughly, humiliated, ENSLAVED by a man. Then, the other day when you slapped me, I was shocked and hurt but it also got me VERY wet! I knew it was wrong but I started craving that from you, started LOVING it when you would order me around and hurt me. I ACHED for more but I was too ashamed to admit it to you, to admit that I, your mother, dreamed about becoming your —- your —- slut, — your —- SLAVE!”

“Crawl over here and kiss my foot,” Paul commanded. Virginia timidly looked up at him. Her son had never seemed so strong, so POWERFUL! Obediently she went over to him on all fours and lowered her trembling lips to his foot. Paul looked down and beamed. He now had his own personal slave and whore with whom he could do anything and who would do anything for him and his mother had, at last, found her MASTER!