My name is Susan. I'm not using my last name because I have read some of the
e-mails that you people have sent regarding my son's story about raping me -
frankly you people make me sick. You disgust and scare the shit out of me. What
my son did was wrong. It was evil. He betrayed me, he RAPED me! He laughed in my
face, spit on my love, and then wrote to every fucking adult story site,
bragging about how all he wanted for Christmas was my sweet ass. But you people
loved it. You loved it when he stormed into my bedroom and stripped me. You just
loved it when he agreed not to get me pregnant, only if I would help him fuck my
ass. Oh you thought it was so great when I spread my ass for him, when he licked
and sucked and drooled in my butt, when he made me cum like a slutty little
whore. You begged him for pictures of me. Just because I posed for Penthouse
years ago does not mean I want you seeing me now. I'm a completely different
person. Some of you felt I deserved it because I allowed my son to kiss me and
fondle me a little earlier. I was drunk, I missed my dead husband. John looks
just like his father at 16; the age that I met and fell in love with him. He
took me out to the Paladin Club for a special dinner, just like my husband used
to. For a little while the alcohol, my loneliness and the fond memories of that
place combined and it felt like my loving husband was with me again. For a
little while I responded to my son as if he were my husband. From his filthy
story that he published via Webtv, I learned that was his plan all along.

While it is true that was a mistake; it does not change one simple fact. I said
NO! I begged him to stop. Even if a woman makes out with you a little, even if
she feels a guy's butt through his pants, that does not mean she has to have sex
with him. I have the right not to be fucked up the ass by my son. No means NO.
One year ago my son took something precious away from me. He took my ability to
trust myself, my judgement.

I mean if I am too stupid to realize that my only son is lusting after me for
weeks, that he is committed to raping his mother - who can I trust. This last
year has been a shit-storm. I have tried to forget and forgive my son. But when
I saw that he used that fucking WEBTV to tell the whole world what he did, that
there was no shame, no remorse - I feel the anger begin to bubble up in me. When
I think how many of you took pleasure in my rape, how many of you beat your tiny
little pricks in glee at my humiliation, at the worst thing that has ever
happened to me - I want revenge. Yes John took something precious from me; but
this Christmas I'm taking it back.

I'm getting a little ahead of myself. I did not come to the decision to rape and
humiliate my son easily. I want you to understand that. The period immediately
after my rape was very difficult. I could not bring myself to call the police on
my only son, to humiliate myself further by letting the whole world know what a
fool I was, what a sick prick I had for a son. I was so scared. Imagine sleeping
every night with a rapist in your house. You try taking a shower knowing your
rapist is just a few yards away. You're naked, wet and defenseless and you hear
a floor board creek, or was it the bathroom door opening? For two months I
barricaded my door every night, and slept in fear of a second rape. It never
came.

At Valentine's day I found my 16 yr old son crying in the kitchen. I was still
his mother. No matter how angry I was at him.

"John, what's wrong, why are you crying."

"Oh mom(sniffle), I just realized that you are never going to forgive me for
what I did. You don't love me any more. With Dad and Grandma dead, I have
nobody. Mom I didn't really rape you. I just needed you so bad, I kind of
pressured you until you surrendered that incredible ass to me. I know it was
wrong, that it was a mistake. But mom wasn't it wrong for you to make out with
me and squeeze my ass while we were dancing? Look - all I'm saying is we would
both handle things differently if we could relive that night."

As a mother it is never easy to see your child in pain. Your instincts take over
and you want to comfort him. I can't explain it better than that. As angry as I
was... there was a part of me that had to wonder what would have happened if I
had stopped my son the first time he kissed me. If I had never gotten drunk, or
played with his ass, would he have raped me that night? Was this my fault?

"John I don't hate you... I have to admit that you have damaged our
relationship. I am a little scared to be around you but I am still your mother
and I want us to work things out."

I was startled when my son rushed over to me and wrapped his arms around me and
held me tight to him. He was still crying.

"I am so sorry mom, I love you. Please you gotta forgive me. I need your love
and your trust back. Just say you will give us a chance. I swear to god mom I
will never force you to have sex with me again."

At first I was so scared being held by my rapist, smelling him, feeling my
breasts mash tight against his chest I did not know what to do. Then a strange
thing happened. As he rocked me, as his tears washed me, as I heard the pain and
sincerity in his voice... he started becoming my son again. I briefly hugged him
back, and reached up to brush his tears away. No matter what he had done this
was my only son. He was right about one thing, we had nobody else.

"John... I want us to get past this. I am willing to try. You are my son and I
love you. It's going to take some time but... I think we have a good chance if
we take it slow and work hard," I said as my son lifted me in the air and spun
me around. He was deliriously happy and it was infectious. John held me for
several minutes. He seemed so grateful for the privilege he did not want it to
end. It was almost as if he feared that once he let me go I would retreat back
into the shell of the past 2 months. John was a big bo - strike that, a big man.
At 6'2" he was defensive captain of the jr varsity football team. I could feel
his muscles rippling and bulging around me. His hands were so large, they
covered half my back and stomach, When he lifted me I felt myself sliding
against him, against his manhood. He wasn't exactly erect but... there was
definitely some activity down there. He must have felt me stiffen, because he
put me down immediately.

"Mom I have a great idea, now hear me out. If we are going to start over, I'd
like to have another chance at our date. Think about it - that's where
everything went wrong. I need to be able to see you as my mom again, not as an
incredibly sexy woman. This Sat is Valentines day, let's go to the Paladin Club
again. If I can control myself there, if I can dance with you, in a romantic
setting, if we can drink and let our guards down around each other - just have
fun like we used to, I think it will go a long way to healing us. Please mom,
I'm begging you. Give me a chance to prove that you can trust me."

For that one instant I did trust him. He sounded so sincere, so desperate to
please. Still I was surprised when I heard my voice say "yes" to him.

I rushed out of the kitchen and locked myself in my room. The next morning there
was a knock on my bedroom door. "Mom can I come in, I need to talk." I was
wearing a pair of green silk pajamas, I threw a robe on over it and said, "come
in."

This was the first time John and I had been in my room since Christmas, since
the night he raped me. I felt my heart pounding, but I tried to stay calm. As I
looked at him I could see he was upset about something. He sat down next to me
on the bed. The bed he had fucked my ass in less than 2 months earlier. I was a
little scared but I tried to be a good mother.

"Tell me what's wrong John, you seem pretty upset."

"It's Beth mom, I think she's going to dump me cuz I'm too inexperienced. You
were my first real woman. I was into sports so much, and then I was in love with
you for months... I was a virgin when we made love. Beth has been great for me
and I don't want to lose her, but I don't know what to do." I could not believe
it, he was seeing a girl his own age. This was terrific! I had been so out of
touch with his life lately, I did not even know he was dating. I wanted this
relationship to succeed. I needed my son to re-focus his attention on another
woman. I was afraid if this relationship ended badly he would fixate on me
again. If he needed help I would make sure he got it.

"John, is there anything specific that Beth doesn't like about your
relationship?"

"Well... it's kind of embarrassing, but... she doesn't seem to like kissing me,
she's always distracted or, I don't know bored. I guess I'm not a very good
kisser," he mumbled.

I was very confused. I found myself in the odd and awkward position of taking up
for my son's kissing technique. I knew firsthand that he was an amazing kisser.
Before he raped me I had willingly made out with him twice. The way he licked
and sucked on my lips... was simply delicious. His tongue played with mine and I
was just a step away from surrendering my body to him when my conscience woke me
up and I told him to stop. No matter what happened after - his kisses were sweet
and had made my pussy sweat, and drip, and itch for him. Something drastic must
have changed. I decided to find out what.

"John... don't take this the wrong way... but the only way I can help is to see
what you are doing wrong. Can you control yourself enough to show me. I am
trusting you to stop when I tell you to. I want to help but I will hate you
forever if you take advantage of me again. Are we clear. When I say stop you
stop," I warned in a stern tone. I stood up and moved close to my son. I could
see he was nervous and that helped me a little. Slowly he bent towards me and
lightly brushed my lips with his. At first he kissed all around the corners of
my mouth before pulling me in snug for a deep soul kiss. As I shared my son's
warmth, breath and saliva there was no denying that it felt good. That surprised
me. How could it possibly feel good to kiss the man who raped me? To this day I
don't know. Sometimes I think back to that moment and realize how different my
life would have been, if I had not kissed my son that fateful Valentine's eve. I
knew it was wrong, as good as it felt to be in his arms, to kiss his neck, to
suck on his Adam's apple - I never lost track of that. I guess that's why I
asked him to stop.

"Please mom, mmmjust a litttle longer baby. You taste so good."

"John let go of me now! Take your hands off me this instant!" I yelled in rising
panic.

"Mom, mom calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you. Look I'm stepping back. It's over.
I won't hurt you ever again baby. You can trust me." As I collected myself a
part of me felt cold. My body had begun instinctively preparing itself for sex
and suddenly it was over. A part of me cried out in protest at the removal of my
son's warmth. I wanted to wrap myself in his strong arms, to feel his thick hard
on jamming into me. The silk of my pajamas was gliding over my clit, and clung
between the folds of my ass. I was horny, and wet, and a little scared - but
mostly I was horny. What's more I think I knew what John's problem with Beth
was, and it wasn't good.

"John do you kiss Beth like you just kissed me?"

"No way mom you kiss a lot better than she does. Don't worry mom, I'm not going
to do it; but after one kiss I feel like stripping those pajamas off you,
spreading you on this bed and licking your cunt. I want to taste your sweet
assmeat agin, to play with it, to ram my cock in it until you tell me that you
love me. Beth never makes me feel like that. I'm starting to realize she never
will... oh my god, the reason I'm so bad with her is cuz I don't love her. I
think part of me feels like I'm cheating on you. That you won't want me if you
found out I was fooling around with another woman. I still love you mom, only
you. What am I gong to do, the only woman I want is the one that I can never
have, oh mom what am I going to do?" John said in bitter dismay as he ran out of
my room.

"I don't know son, I don't know what we are going to do," I said to the walls of
my empty room.

Valentines day had arrived and we spent most of the day avoiding the large pink
elephant that was in every room of our house. I could not believe that I was
really going to do it. I was going out on a second date with my son the Rapist.
It was a strange day from the start.

"Mom, wake up. I made you breakfast."

It took me a few minutes to adjust to my surroundings. I was in my bed. I had
been dreaming of my 10th wedding anniversary. My husband had taken me to the
Paladin Club. Afterwards we had come home and made love for hours. It was the
first time he had worked up the nerve to ask me for anal sex. I always knew he
liked playing with my ass. Ron would often sniff and kiss me down there, but it
had never gone any farther. Once shortly after I posed for Penthouse he jokingly
pretended that he could not find my pussy hole and suggested using the other one
instead. I guess the look of fear and disgust on my face had caused him to wait
over 8 years before asking again. That night I was deliriously happy, more than
a little tipsy, and madly in love. I could not deny Ron, my ass. He was so
gentle, incredibly tender. He let me get used to his thick cock filling my tiny
asshole. He was so grateful after that first fuck, I just could not deny him a
second one the next night. Anal sex definitely added spice and new energy to our
sex life. Ron slowly trained me to need him that way. He always made sure that I
came at least twice anally. Sometimes he would lick my anus, plunging his tongue
in and out, deeper and deeper, while rubbing and massaging my butt cheeks for
what seemed like hours. Often he made me cum by playing with my clit while he
rammed my ass. Anal sex became the predominant way we made love. Oh he'd fuck my
pussy sometimes. I mean sometimes I'd get an itch there and only a nice thick
donkey dick could scratch it. But I always knew after that first time, on my
10th wedding anniversary that my husband was never completely satisfied till he
spread my cheeks open and slipped into the bottom of my tender, juicy little
ass. That night was special to me, and after my husband's death, I'd revisit it.
I'd smile at my dream lover and wait for that unique sensation of him slowly
filling my ass with his cock.

I had obviously been having that dream again the morning John came into my room.
My legs were slick with my own juices. and the front of my pajamas were
noticeably damp. I had been sweating profusely and smelled like an odd mix of
sweat, sex, soap and body lotion. I slowly opened my eyes and could see that
John had prepared a lovely breakfast for us. By the time I was fully conscious
he had set up two trays and before I could protest slid into bed next to me. We
had done it 100 times before but not once since the rape. I missed it a little.
The chance to catch up, the special intimacy of a mother and son. In the past
sometimes he would cook and serve me in my bed and then another day I'd return
the favor in his room. It made me feel like we were a family. I sat up in bed,
smiled at him and thanked him for the meal. The maternal feelings did not last
long. It seems that while I slept I had gotten hot and somehow unbuttoned 4
buttons on my Pajama top. When I sat up my 36D breasts spilled out into the
open. As I was still aroused from my dream my long pink nipples were prominently
displayed to my son. I realized what had happened after he was staring at me for
a couple of seconds and quickly tried to cover up.

John stopped me.

"No mom, don't hide them. Let me see. Oh my god look at those nipples, look at
them. I gotta have a taste."

John quickly bent to my chest and began slurping on my right tit for several
seconds. His hands were rolling my left nipple between his thumb and forefinger,
and he lightly squeezed it. The whole thing lasted around 20 seconds. The smell
of my pussy filled the air. It was embarrassing.

"John... (groan) you, you have to stop. Please."

John gave me a few last baby sucks, and took a deep breath with his face buried
between my breasts and slowly pulled away.

"I did it mom, see I CAN control myself. Mom can I just do one more thing? It
will only take a couple of seconds. Then I promise I'll stop."

I never got a chance to respond. He opened the final 2 buttons on my top and
began licking my stomach. He then started nibbling on the nubbin of my outie
belly button. His hands darted inside my bottoms and he quickly scooped several
fingers worth of my sticky cum and fed it to himself.

Apparently I was finger licking good, cuz my son had a happy smile on his face
as he licked his fingers clean. I still had not had a good cum, but he stopped
what he was doing and sat up in bed next to me. He then pulled me into his lap.
My top was completely unbuttoned but at least he was not looking directly at me.
I could feel John's hard on pressing into me. It felt good. His arms wrapped
around me and he firmly cupped my breasts. He did not rub them or play with my
nipples. He was just holding them, almost in a friendly manner. It was clear
that he was allowing me to make the next move. I didn't.

I just stayed there in my son's arms, with his hands on my tits, and his dick
pressing hard into my pajama clad ass and ate my breakfast. I wanted to tell him
that I was just as scared, and confused and horny as he was. I wanted to tell
him that if he were any other man I'd be fucking him now like a silly little
slut in heat. But he wasn't any other man, he was my son. Worse still he was my
Rapist. That wound was still there and it made it difficult for me to surrender
my body to him; willingly, completely, utterly. In the back of my mind was that
scene when I begged him in this very bed not to rape me, when I cried, and was
humiliated by my only son. He had not cared how much he hurt me, how scared I
was. He wanted my ass and he just fucking took it. As horny as I was, I did not
forget, or forgive that. So we sat there in my bed while the smell of my cunt
blended with the aroma of scrambled eggs, toast and coffee. I was not able to
cum, but I did not say a word as he suddenly gasped, squeezed my tits hard and
began humping me. For a good 30 seconds he dry fucked me, while I pretended to
watch tv. I did not help him, but I did not stop him. He finally settled down
and removed his hands from my tits. He gave me a tight embrace and sighed in
contentment.

I buttoned up and my son held me until I drifted off to sleep in his arms. My
dream picked up right where it had left off. Once again my husband was peeling
my ass open. It was ok to cum now, because Ron had every right to fuck my ass. I
felt so safe and secure in my husband's arms. I felt flood after flood of cum
trickle down my legs as he power fucked my ass. That night I put on my favorite
black evening dress, and a pair of high heels. I don't know why but I put on the
necklace John had given me for Christmas. It felt strange to slip it on. I had
never worn it. Barely looked at it, but I still knew the inscription by heart.
"Susan - I love You. You are mine forever, body and soul - John."

As I came downstairs I felt a wave of deja vu, mixed with de jamis sweep over
me. I knew I had been in a situation like this before. I had come down to meet a
man, to display myself to him, to seek his approval at my appearance. As
familiar as it felt... I was trying so hard to divorce myself from those
emotions, to distance myself from prior romantic associations, that this time
felt a little bit like it was the first time for me. Even though I knew I had
been in this place before, I somehow felt that I never had. John looked me over
with love and lust in his eyes.

"God, you look so beautiful. If you weren't my mom I'd have to kiss you right
now," he said just as he had last Christmas eve. Then he reached into the
crevice of my breasts and pulled out the necklace he had given me. The necklace
that proclaimed his love and declared his ownership of me. How could I have been
so stupid! I felt a hot blush spread over my face as he smiled in satisfaction.
I had to set things straight.

"Well I AM your mother so all you get is a kiss on the cheek." I never realized
how erotic a kiss on the cheek could be. John began licking and nibbling on my
cheek. It went on and on. He smelled so good, and felt so warm and hard - and we
were not really kissing... I let it continue for quite a while. Finally he gave
me a tight hard hug, and said it was time to go.

The Paladin Club was packed with young lovers enjoying each other. Good food, a
romantic setting, and a killer jazz band - it was perfect as always. I could
almost swear we had the same waiter as last time. John tipped him 40 dollars as
soon as we sat down. An obsequious grin spread over his face.

"Good evening kind sir, and lovely madam. Welcome to the Paladin. My name is
Jerrard. If I can service any of your needs, please instruct me. I await your
pleasure. Perhaps the gentleman would care to inspect our wine list."

I did not handle wine very well. I never had. I don't know why but it always hit
me hard and fast. I realized this was a big part of the mistake I had made last
time. I had let John control the evening. Treated him like an adult. Responded
to him like a woman, instead of as his mother. Never again.

"The Gentleman is only 16 so he will have a coke instead. Please bring me an
iced tea." The waiter nodded and scurried off to do my bidding. John looked as
if he had been poleaxed. That's pretty much how the evening went. I was
pleasant. We had fun, but I never lost sight of the fact that I was MOM. We did
not dance, or drink or squeeze each other's asses. Every attempt that he made at
intimacy was immediately squashed. As the evening drew to a close I realized
that whatever strange spell that my son had over me, I could fight it. As long
as I did not lose control. I was so happy! It was refreshing to start getting
our lives back on track. We returned home and John was very quiet.

"Mom I had a good time tonight. May I kiss you good night?" John asked in a tone
that barely concealed his desire for me. Uh, uh, not again mister. I knew once
John started kissing me I would be his.

"No John, I think we are going to take a break from kissing and hugging for a
while. I'm not mad at you, it's just that we have got to start behaving like
mother and son again."

John's eyes flashed briefly, and he started to protest. Then as he saw the
determination on my face, he took a deep breath and said, "I understand mom."

I thought it was over. I thought I had my son back. I planned to start dating
and to encourage him to do the same. Incredibly after all we had been through,
we were going to be all right. The End...

Or so I thought. But I was wrong. God how I was wrong. For several months John
and I lived as a perfectly normal mother and son. We did not hug, kiss or share
breakfast in bed anymore; but for the most part we were happy. It was just after
Thanksgiving, and I was looking forward to Christmas. My mother in law's death
had left us pretty well set financially. Between my job, Ron's insurance policy,
her will, and John's part time job - we were very comfortable. I could finally
afford to get a computer. I bought an Internet ready Pentium 4. I had surfed the
net a little at work. As John already had his (Fucking) Webtv, it was pretty
much all mine. Like every other person on the Internet I eventually checked out
a few of the adult sites. Some of them were so hot! I particularly liked the
Story sites. Just the idea of thousands of people writing free sex stories, just
for the fun of it. One day I was visiting the Onlinestories Site and ran across
the stories of Jaz1701.

This guy was really sick. He seemed to have a twisted fascination with
rape/incest stories. I found myself wondering what kind of fucked up life this
loser must have had to make him fixate on rape stories. The sad thing was some
of his stories were actually well written. I am ashamed to say that as I became
desensitized a little to his disgusting subject matter, I sometimes found myself
becoming aroused. As I read through story after story of Fathers raping
daughters, Brothers blackmailing and humiliating their sisters, there was even
one where a daughter raped her father! Then it happened. The name of the story
was "All I Want For Christmas is My Mom's Sweet Ass... and a Webtv. As I read it
I felt an eerie sense of dread begin to seep into me. This story was about a
woman named Susan (Just like me), she had a son named John (just like me). Her
husband had died and she hated her mother in law (me). It was surreal. I kept
scrolling through the events of last Christmas. Jaz1701 knew the details of my
humiliating rape. Word for fucking word.

You want to know how stupid I was? I thought John had confided in a friend and
they had betrayed us both. I thought that until I saw his e-mail address. In all
of his previous stories it was Jaz1701@hotmail.com. This time though he changed
it to Jaz1701@webtv.net. Web-Fucking-tv. There was no getting around it. Only
one person knew the details of my rape, AND owned a(fucking) Webtv.

Jaz1701... is my son, John. I felt like someone had kicked me in the side of the
head. Why would he do this? How could he betray me again. Raping me wasn't
enough? He had to tell the world about it. I had to learn more. I took the next
day off from work. When John went to school, I tried to break into his (fucking)
Webtv. It wasn't hard. The son of a bitch's password was "RAPE". I looked in his
mail box and found dozens of e-mails from his Readers. Some were about my story.
Here's a few word for word.

"Jaz you sure showed your slutty mom who was boss. Send some pics dude."

AND

"Jaz what an insightful and enchanting modern day fairy tale. I particularly
enjoyed the skewed juxtaposition of the mother/son dynamic and the subtle
judeo/christian battle for supremacy. Kudos and excelsior!"

FINALLY

"Jaz you are sick, and will burn forever in the fiery pit of Gehenna, there will
be the weeping and gnashing of your teeth. Repent Sinner. I was patrolling all
of these devil inspired adult sites and praying for the chance to save a soul. I
have read all of your stories and must say they are filthy. Do you have any
more? Please send pics of your mom so my parishioners can pray for her. Amen."

The more I read, the angrier I got. My son did not love me. He had been living a
lie for the past year. He was not the least bit sorry for what he did to me. To
the contrary, he reveled in it. My fear, shock, confusion, outrage, humiliation
were intoxicating to him. He loved hearing me lose control, begging and sobbing
for mercy, mercy that he would never give.

For the first time I was able to read how my son really felt about me. I was not
his mother, not even a woman. I was a pair of big tits, a juicy ass and a warm
wet cunt. Just a silly little whore for him to stick his fat cock into. My rape
was no accident. It was not the chance result of too much wine, and a flareup of
hormonal lust. No it was a calculated seduction, a planned attack. As I read
through e-mail after e-mail, as I visited his saved favorites, I realized that
Jaz1701 was a very sick individual. He clearly needed help from medical
professionals. He wasn't going to get it from me.

As I sat in front of his (fucking) Webtv a story idea worthy of Jaz1701 began to
form. Jaz liked clever little rape stories, so I was going to make him the star
of one. He wrote chapter 1 of "All I want for Christmas..." I would write
Chapter 2. Whenever he was out of the house I would sign on to HIS e-mail and
write this story. I saved it in his deleted mail under the title "You can make
money on the Internet." I figured even if he checked his deleted mail he would
not look at a piece of spam like that.

My plan is pretty simple. I am going to get my son drunk/drugged, and horny.
I'll let him think he can have another piece of my sweet ass. Then I'll tie him
up. Humiliate him, take polaroids and distribute them to his school. Finally I
purchased a 10 inch dildo and when he was tied down, drunk, drugged, crying and
helpless I planned to fuck my son up his hairy ass till he bled.

Merry fucking Christmas you he-bitch!

Best of all I would post the story to all of his favorite filthy sites. That's
right Onlinestories, Kristen, Mr. Double I mean YOU. I hold you partially
responsible.

Christmas Eve had come and the egg nog was flowing freely. We had both received
invitations to friends and distant families parties, but had declined them all.
We wanted Christmas to be special and very private this year. I pretended to get
a little drunk and stumbled into John. "Whoa mom I got you, you ok?

"Thanks baby, you are getting so tall and strong," I said as I reached up and
felt my son's powerful arms.

I leaned into him and my nips of my breasts brushed along his chest. That's all
it took and he was hard. He locked his arms around my waist and softly moved his
crotch against mine. He bent down and kissed me for the first time since
Valentine's day. Suddenly he picked me up by the waist of my jeans and I was
dangling 3 inches off the ground. The jean material was chaffing snug and hard
against my pussy and for a minute I forgot my plan. I was sucking on my son's
tongue for all I was worth, He was breathing hard and swinging me from side to
side in the air. He backed me up against the kitchen table and sat me down on
it.

"I have waited a long time for this. No more fooling around mom. You are going
to fuck me willingly tonight. I. Want. Your pussy. Tonight. Are you going to
give yourself to me mom. Can I do anything I want?"

"Yes, yes damnit I tried to do the right thing but... I can't deny it any
longer. I love you and I am yours forever body and soul. I... think we both
could use a drink."

John smiled as I went to the fridge and got out the container of spiked egg nog
I had prepared earlier. I had crushed 8 valiums and used 130 proof liquor in
John's drink. I sipped on my non alcoholic nog and said, "Bottoms up lover. Here
is to a wonderful and sexy night."

John finished his drink in two gulps. He then closed the distance between us and
said," I am going to take you to my room and fuck you in a minute but first, I
want to see you naked. Now. I am going to spread you out on this table and eat
your cunt out. Take your clothes off mom."

This was happening too fast. The drugs needed time to work. He was a large man
it could be several minutes before they took full effect. I had no choice. I
slowly stripped for my son. I felt the panic surge up in me as he roughly laid
me on my back and spread me out on our kitchen table. He then pulled my legs
apart and shoved his face deep in my steaming cunt. John licked and sucked and
gnawed on me like a mad man. I felt a monster orgasm building when he said," I
need your ass mom. Get up on all fours and hold it wide open for me."

My hands were shaking as I got on my knees and hands on the wobbly table and
reached back to obey. His hands began playing in my ass. He made little circles
around my anus and slowly sunk his pinkie in me. I could feel it wiggling around
inside of me. My butt muscles clenched on it involuntarily. Then he put his
thumb in my ass, and his forefinger in my pussy, and made his fingertips touch.
It was too much. It felt like I was being fucked by two tiny, wiggling dicks and
I felt pussy juice begin to drip down my leg. soon it was a stream and I heard
John lapping it up. His tongue moved from my thighs to my asshole and he told me
to raise my ass higher. I was on all fours, I had my ass high in the air, and
was holding my butt-cheeks wide apart so my son could eat my ass out. His tongue
was sliding into my little hole and I felt his saliva and drool filling my ass.
He rubbed my cheeks together and the slippery, lubricated feeling was quite
intense. He rubbed and squeezed and massaged my slippery wet, drool filled ass
for several minutes. It was hot, and nasty and out of control. To be honest a
part of me loved it. A small part of me loved how wild I could make my handsome
teenage son.

Beneath the surface, below the radar of morality and right vs. wrong; I was
still a hot sexual women. There was a gut level, animal response that my son
seemed to trigger in me. It would be easy to deny it, to fool myself into
believing I did not have such disgusting impulses. But not today. John had
awoken this side of me; today and neither of us would be allowed to hide.

"John... I think it's time we went upstairs. John! Stop! You are not fucking my
ass on the kitchen table. If you insist on doing this, you WILL do it in bed
like a gentleman. Is that clear!" I screamed as John was lining his dick up to
fuck me silly. To fuck me into submission.

Without a word he stopped. He reached down and picked me up. His right hand
supported and fondled my ass as he carried me up the stairs to his bed. John
banged into the side of his doorway as we entered and tripped. We both landed
hard on his bed. He seemed dazed and confused. I noticed that his erection was
gone. The drugs were working. I decided to test how well.

"I'm ready for you John. You may fuck me as long and as hard as you want. I am
your property. Please master fuck my ass. I made you wait for a whole year.
Discipline me daddy. Baby needs your hard beef meat shoved up her ass. Please
Jaz rape me like the dirty little slut I am. I deserve whatever you decide to do
to me. It will make a great story."

"Whu, huh? Jaz, yousaidJaz!" John slurred as he slowly passed out on his bed;
and left himself at my mercy, mercy that would never come.

I went to work quickly. I dressed myself and then removed the rest of his
clothes. I fastened his arms over his head with two leather straps and laid him
on his back. I then ran to my room and got my humiliation bag that I had packed
the night before. I slid a pair of my tightest, silk pink bikini thong panties
on my son. I could not help but laugh at how funny they looked on him. His thick
slab of cock was peeking out the sides and his hairy balls made a delicious
bulge. Of course no proper young lady would wear panties without a matching bra.
After I snapped the pink lace bra closed, I got out the curly blonde slut-wig
and please-fuckme-candy apple red lipstick. As I took picture after picture of
my pretty little rapist I was giggling like a loon. These pictures were going up
at John's school, our church; they would show up in the football locker room, I
would make his life a living hell. Every thing was almost perfect but there was
one more shot I needed. I pulled out the neon pink, double tipped dildo. I
strapped on the stabilizing harness and inserted one end into myself. I debated
about using some lubrication on John but decided against it. I manually rammed
the other end in his ass. I shot 5 or 6 polaroids before I began to fuck him in
earnest. The first time I slammed my pussy down on my end of the dildo, he woke
up.

"Arrrgh! WHHHas hapning? Oww mom, what the fuck are you doing bitch. Get off me,
ow! Please mom, you are raping me, it hurts, please stop god it hurtssz!" My
half drunk, bra wearing son screamed in despair and pain. I loved it.

"Mmm baby momma loves your tight ass. I want to see your virgin blood Johnny.
Cmon little Jaz, you know you love this thick dick up your butt. You are just so
cute mommy couldn't help herself. You understand don't you lover. Oh baby your
dad would be so proud if he could see what a precious little buttercup angel you
turned out to be. He probably would have fucked a hot little man-whore like you
himself. That's it scream for me, go ahead and cry; let it all out for mommy.
Don't be embarrassed little Jaz, mama still loves you," I said as I raped my
Rapist's ass. Wet sloshing sounds were coming from his ass, and I could finally
see a pinkish brown sludge oozing from his butt. I reached over and got the
polaroid. When I pulled the dildo out John's end was covered in blood and shit.
His anus was a gaping hole. I took a couple of shots and then could not resist
sticking 3 fingers inside of his ass. John began screaming and bucking wildly on
the bed. So I added another finger. And a thumb. As I fisted my rapist and
scratched the inside of his ass I could not help laughing at how things had
changed. In the course of a year I had gone from a loving mother, to a rape
victim. I forgave my son, found out he was a sick rape writer, and became a
rapist myself. I wondered what the year 2,000 would bring. I looked at the clock
on the nightstand, it was 12am - Christmas!

"John look, it's Christmas. We can go downstairs in a few minutes and open our
presents. But first I want you to sing some Christmas carols with me."

John did not want to do it at first... but it seems I had the upper (or is it
lower?) hand, and managed to convince him. With my fist in his tight,
slutty,sweaty,stinky ass we sang together loud and long...

"I'm dreaming of a white, Christmas..."

EPILOGUE

John is a changed man. He was so cute crying and begging me not to show those
pictures to anyone who knew him. I made him use that talented tongue of his to
give my pussy some relief. After I was satisfied I told him I would consider
keeping the photos semi private as long as he behaved himself. I did insist on
distributing his pics on the internet but agreed not to use his real name. A few
of my friends might get a good laugh out of them... but I have not decided if I
should show them or not.

The best thing to come out of this is that, I think John respects me again. He
knows that no matter how strong he is, he is just a valium and a dildo away from
getting raped. I am typing this on his (fucking) Webtv Jaz1701 account and will
submit it to onlinestories tonight. I can't wait till he sees the story and
starts getting mail about his rape! Please feel free to ask HIM for all the pics
you want.

See Ya,

Susan, Jaz1701's mom.

Merry Christmas 1999

Author's Note Hi there, as another year draws to a close, I wanted to take a
moment to thank the people who have enjoyed my stories. Most of you have gotten
the joke. Granted it is a sick and twisted joke, but it IS a joke nonetheless.
Take this story. Now you just know I'm going to get mail from lots of...
interesting people who want to see pictures of John, er Jaz, uh well that would
be me I guess. Wait a minute no it wouldn't because this is the Author's Note
and Susan is writing this story so... when you ask for pictures better make it
clear if you want to see me or my mom the Penthouse Centerfold.

Riiiight.

I'll let you guys in on a big secret. Every adult story, no matter how
implausible it sounds is 100% true. I'm not kidding. I don't care how many
disclaimers we put on it, it's gospel. 3,4,5 gorgeous women throwing themselves
at teenage boys. Fantasy, fiction total farce right? WRONG! it is all, fucking
true. I mean my mom's a centerfold and we make out all the time. I'm sure you do
it all the time with yours, so you know I speak the truth. Ladies your dads are
all thirty something hunks who make sweet love to you right? Guys you gotta be
with me on this: I can fuck for 30 to 35 minutes, 4 to 5 times a day, shit we
all can right?!

The conspiracy has gone on long enough. In the new millennium we will learn
about society from the Internet in general and from Adult Story sites in
particular. Everything you really need to know you can learn from onlinestories.
Oh yeah and from (fucking) Webtv.

There, now I can rest easy.