A Willing Participant #02

This is a work of fiction, and all names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No characters are under the age of 18.

This is a continuation of A Willing Participant # 1. It does NOT stand well on its own. Please read part 1 to get the most out of this story.

#2, Home Free

Chapter One

Mary pulled a U-turn onto the highway. As she headed for home, she fielded questions laced with accusations and disbelief. One stood out. IF she was forced, then why wasn't she calling the police?

She countered with questions of her own: "Did you get their license plate?"

"No! I didn't think I needed to."

"There wasn't one! She responded. "What where their names, did you get their last name? Were John and Billy their real names? Where they really bother?"

Travis glared at her. Of course he didn't know.

"That house in the woods, could you find your way back there?"

"I could try." He said, but he didn't sound too sure.

"Maybe that wasn't even their house. Maybe they just broke in, and now they're long gone."

He just looked at her as though she was making all this up.

"What are you going to tell the police?" she asked. "They're going to want to hear the WHOLE story you know."

He couldn't look at her when he answered: "I wouldn't tell them everything." He said, sounding embarrassed and ashamed.

"EVERYTHING will come out. Is that what you want?"

Travis was silent, brooding most of the ride home. When he did speak, he was short and defensive. He didn't believe she was forced, and Mary didn't blame him, not by the way she'd acted.

A call with an excuse of car trouble relieved Mary of her obligation to visit her sister. They headed straight home. Agonizing, she replayed the events over and over again in her head, how she'd acted and what she'd done. It made her sick to her stomach.

Once they got home, things where no better. The atmosphere was cold and tense, and for days he'd avoided her. He was angry and didn't believe that crap about her being forced. That was all bull-shit! He thought. She was lying! It sure hadn't looked like she was forced, not by the way that cock hungry bitch sucked everyone off, and not by the way SHE came over and over again! There was no fucking way she was forced!

Mary ruminated over the events in the woods. She WAS forced, she WAS, at first... but then things spiraled out of control. The thoughts of how she'd acted, and the things she'd done, they haunted her. She'd lost control of herself, and couldn't stop thinking about it.

Troubled by guilty, not only for what she'd done, but because a side of her, a side she kept hidden, enjoyed what had happened, longed for it. It was a deep dark deviant part of her that craved depraved and degrading sex. It was part very few had ever seen, a part her son had now witnessed.

She questioned her actions. Could she have done something different, resisted them more, not been so cooperative? Had she really done the right thing by giving in to them so totally, or was she just fulfilling her own deep dark desires?

It had been over two week, and Mary hadn't touched herself, which was unusual. She rarely went more than a couple of days without needing to masturbate. It wasn't that she was purposely abstaining; she just hadn't been in the mood. Not only was she troubled by conflicting feelings, and by the way Travis was treating her. She was also physically, emotionally, and sexually exhausted... spent even.

Only in her darkest fantasies, had Mary ever had such a wild sexual experience. She'd often imagined being taken and brutally fucked by two, three, or more men at the same time, acting out those depraved fantasies, alone in her room with her extensive collection of toys. She just never had the nerve really to seek it out. It was unfortunate, that when her fantasy finally did become a reality, it included her own teenage son.

Mary's breasts were swollen, sore and tender. The routine milking and sucking of her large lactating breast was an important part of her sexuality, and her solo sex play. Recently they had been neglected, as was rest of her needs. The pain and building pressure was becoming nearly unbearable. She considered milking herself just to relieve the pressure, but knew where that would lead, and just the thought of it got her juices flowing. Retiring early one evening, Mary decided she needed to take care of all her needs.

Stripping naked, she stood in front of a tall mirror brushing her hair. Born Mary Giovanni, she had long dark brown hair and olive skin that was quite fair. She'd been a single mom taking care of her own needs for so long the sight of her own naked body aroused her.

Turning this way and that, she checked out her petite, yet bodacious little body. At 4, 11" she wasn't very tall. She had large milky breast, which she loved, although they often gained her lots of unwanted attention. Her ass was big too, a little too big, she thought. But her stomach was flat, and she was proud of that. Her legs, although short were slender and tapered nicely to her wide hips.

I'll never be a Super Model, she thought, but I still look pretty good! She was an example of exaggerated propositions, a tiny girl with big tits, a thin waist, wide hips and a bubble butt. She was no athlete, she thought. She had a body made for one thing...

After her divorce, and with age, Mary became increasingly insecure and self-conscious about her curvy little body, especially her big round ass.

Even thou, she knew men were still very attracted to her. Those men in the woods sure had been... and so was her son!

What the fuck? Why? Why did that crazy thought just pop into my head? She wondered. It was startling, unsettling, disturbing even. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. Yet...in some way, it made her feel good, more confident, aroused even. Maybe that's what disturbed her.

Mary lightly touched her swollen breast. The skin felt tight. Holding them, they felt heavy and laden with milk. She squeezed and pinched her large stiff nipple, droplets of milk appeared. Squeezing and pinching harder, the drops turned to a fine stream. Lifting the heavy breast to her mouth caused her to wince with pain. They were sore and tender, but the pain beckoned pleasure. It was a pain that preceded release, and relief. Sucking at the fat distended nipple, her mouth instantly filled with sweet warm milk, and her throbbing pussy cried out for the same attention.

Crawling on her bed, she lay back on a pile of pillows and continued suckling her breast. Spreading her legs, she rubbed the fleshy folds of her demanding pussy. Already amazingly wet, her pussy made sloppy sloshing sound as she rubbed and fingered herself.

Closing her eyes, she drifted off into an aroused state, where reality and fantasy mingle.

Disconnected images of wild sex and lustful acts with nameless, faceless men filled her thought. Images of incredibly large cocks erupting with ridiculous amount of delicious cum filled her mind and caused her mouth to water as she dug fingers deep into her fat wet hole.

Disjointed images of crazed sex joined and coalesced with memories of that fateful night in the woods. The wild sex, it was something she'd only fantasized about. And her abductors, she would never forget them, they were so handsome, well built... and so well hung.

And her son... The sight of his surprisingly large cock, it had stirred something deep, dark and disturbingly forbidden in her. She couldn't stop thinking about it, what had happened, what she'd done, all the sucking, all the fucking, all the cum, and all the orgasms, the wonderful intense orgasms. Her thoughts and emotions crashed together in a collision of arousal and regret.

She was unable to stop thinking about what had happened in the woods. It was something she would never forget. It had been wild crazy sex, the greatest she'd ever had. And it took three cocks to give it to her! The thoughts and memories, as disturbing as they were, aroused her. She was ashamed of what she'd been forced to do, but her greatest shame was that truthfully, she'd loved every minute of it.

Mary wasn't horrified or traumatized by what had happened. She didn't feel angry or vengeful. She felt excited, and aroused by the very thought of it.

Lying back on her bed with her legs spread wide, she got lost in fantasy and memories, as she sucked hard, drinking deeply from her own milky breast. Rubbing and fingering herself, she delighted in the sensuous feel of her own body. Her vulva was so full and puffy. Her protruding lips where so long and thick, and her wonderfully sensitive clit was so big and fat and proudly standing out like an appendage of its own.

Grasping the fleshy folds of her pussy, she pulled and massaged. Muffled moans escaped her nipple filled mouth as streams of milk leaked and trickled down between her breasts.

Fingering herself, and sucking her tits, Mary thought about her son, remembering how excited he'd gotten when he'd seen her naked, and how excited he was to touch her.

She remembered her son's cock, how surprised she had been at how big and beautiful it was. She remembered how it felt to have that big thick shaft in her hands, throbbing in her mouth, and pulsing against her tongue. It was so big and thick, and stiff, just like his fathers, bigger even. She remembered how excited he gotten when she'd slip her mouth over it, and took him downs her throat. He came almost instantly! The thoughts made her quiver and moan.

Sitting on her bed, she sucked her own tits while wildly fingering herself. She moaned and grunted as an orgasm rapidly approached.

She remembered... fantasized... sucking and fucking her own son.

Her own son...

Her own son!

Chapter 2

As she lay there wildly masturbating, dreaming of her son's big cock, her mind suddenly exploded with horrible feelings of guilt and shame.

NO! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME? I'm masturbating, imagining fucking my own son!

In anguish, as though it had caused her some insult, she grabbed the flesh of her dirty incestuous cunt and squeezed hard, not for pleasure but to cause pain. Clamping her fist down hard on her swollen pussy lips, she dug in her nails, and pulled, twisted, and yanked the tender fleshy folds of her fat cunt with all her might. As she punished her dirty whore cunt, she bit down painfully hard on her big fat nipple.

She was a dirty incestuous slut, and she punished her filthy body trying to push back the arousal.

Throwing her head back in pain, she gasped as she released the abused nipple. Stretching the skin of her pussy lips to their taut limits, she groaned. Finally, with shaky hands, she had to release the tormented flesh of her abused cunt. She could endure no more.

Then, still disgusted with herself, she spitefully brought her hand down hard with a loud slapping blow atop her fat tender clit. Bolts of pain shot through her cunt and stabbed at her spasuming ass hole.

Again attacking her breast with vengeful intent, she grabbed one with an angry vice like grip and squeezed brutally hard. Milk erupted into multiple anguished streams as she dug her fingers into the tender swollen orb.

Gritting her teeth with pain, she grabbed her squirting nipples and pulled viciously hard, twisting, torturing, punishing the tender puckering flesh. Her hands were soaked, dripping with her own milk.

Then she slapped at her aching breast, violently, angrily, repeatedly, she rained down hard blows, punishing her tits. From the top, the bottom, the sides, she slapped. Lashing out, she pommeled her breast. Her swollen globes viciously abused and tossed about, squirted milk everywhere.

Grabbing one of her abused squirting breast with both hands, she squeezed horribly, painfully hard. Her breast, purple and distorted from the blood being painfully squeezed into it, looked and felt as though it might tear open from the cruel pressure.

Mary lifted the agonized, squirting nipple to her mouth and sucked viciously hard! Her mouth instantly filled with warm milk, and her engorged nipple felt as though it might explode in her mouth. She bit down hard, and with a gasp of pain, she released the tormented nipple.

Looking down at the mauled breast still clutched in her hands, she chomped down again. That time, she bit through, painfully drawing blood. The irony taste of blood mixed with milk and filled her mouth. With a painful grimace, she released the swollen, squirting, bloody nipple.

Continuing to punish herself, she slapped at her offending, wanton flesh, slapping her breast, her stomach, her legs, and then the tender flesh of inner thighs. Slapping and scratching, she tore at the sensitive skin.

With her body stinging and inflamed from torment, she'd reached her limits. She could endure no more pain, and despite the vicious self-abuse, her body still longed for pleasure. It was a hunger so deep and desperate that she couldn't beat it out.

Feverishly rubbing at the screaming flesh between her legs, she sought pleasure in spite the pain. Filled with self-loathing and disgust, she slapped again at her dirty needy cunt. Then rubbed wildly, mean, hard and fast at her tormented swollen clit, and despite her vicious self-abuse, she felt an unstoppable orgasm approaching.

Rubbing wildly at the wet fleshy folds between her legs, she urged on a desperate climax. Yet again, she slapped down hard atop the large hooded bundle of nerves of her clit. Continuing to punish herself, she tried to beat down the orgasm, and deny herself any pleasure.

She'd played a version of this cruel game before, but never so abusively. Inflicting a small sting to delay or prolong a climax, maybe a pinch, or a squeeze, or a light spank, but never had she so brutally abused herself.

Continued to torment herself, she slapped, and then rubbed her stinging flesh. Pain followed by pleasure, and despite the abuse, she was cumming. Not only was Mary cumming despite her self-abuse, her orgasm was heightened and intensified by it.

Rubbing fiercely at her cunt, she was cumming and couldn't stop it. Groaning loudly, she tensed, convulsed and thrashed about on her bed as she climaxed.

Her orgasm, as deep and intense as it was, was far from satisfying.

Lost in a bizarre sexual fog, Mary rolled over and reached to her night stand which housed a large collection of toys...

Chapter 3

Mary's slumber was disturbed by the awareness that even with her eyes closed it was late in the morning, and for a moment she panicked fearing she was late for work, but then remembered with relief, it was Saturday. She tried to go back to sleep, but felt something hard pressing against her forehead. Opening her sleepy eyes, she looked at the object. It was something pinkish and translucent resting on her pillow. To close to see it clearly, she sat up to find her pink silicon cock shaped dildo.

Then she remembered. Things had gotten kind of crazy last night, after brutally fucking herself with the pink toy, and cumming multiple of times, she'd taken the creamy goo covered rubber dick and shoved it in her mouth.

Sitting up, she felt something else against her inner thigh. It was her big black dildo, the one she'd fucked after putting the pink one in her mouth. Looking around, she saw several more dildos on her bed, and the hair brush. She remembered fucking her ass with the handle.

Yeah, she'd gotten pretty crazy last night she'd thought, acting out her fantasy of being brutally gang fucked with her collection of surrogate cocks and whatever else she had laying around.

She remembered lying face down with her ass up, and her mouth full of the pink rubber cock, and she remembered the smell and taste of her own pussy on the cock. She'd remembered grabbing another dildo, her largest, a big black one, and pushing it in her wet, inflamed cunt. She remembers humping 'big black' against the mattress as she worked the handle of the hairbrush in her up turned ass.

The LAST thing she remembered was choking on the pink dildo, not able to breath. In the mitts of an incredible orgasm, she'd pushed it clear down her throat, balls deep. Yep, she'd gotten pretty crazy last night. Had she passed-out? She wondered, or just fallen asleep.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious sitting there naked surrounded by sticky sex toys, she quickly gathered up her toys and put them back in the night stand.

Climbing out of bed she found she was sore and stiff. Her ass and pussy was sore, and so was her throat. Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw that she was covered in scratches and red marks, and even a few bruises and bite marks on her tits.

She felt disturbed and ashamed. How could she have done this to herself? She liked a little pain with her pleasure, but this was something different. Her own behavior troubled her.

What had happened in the woods.... happened. What they did, what she did, what her son did, there was no undoing it. She needed to move on, and put it behind her. She couldn't keep beating herself up, emotionally OR physically. She needed to pull herself together and move on with her life. She had done what she had to do to protect herself and her son... and it worked! They were both home safe. She should have no regrets... but she did.

She knew she wouldn't soon be able to get those depraved thoughts and fantasies out of her head, but she couldn't have many nights like the last. It could destroy her.

Pulling on a cute pair of pajama shorts and an old tee-shirt to cover her nakedness, and the evidence of her own self-abuse, she went to the kitchen for some coffee.

Chapter 4

Travis found his mom sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over a cup of coffee reading the morning paper. Her hair was a twisted, matted mess, more so than normal, and she looks haggard.

"You look like shit" He said to her.

"Oh thank you! Just the look I was going for." She replied sarcastically.

He was finally talking to her, she realized, and she didn't want to poison it with smart ass remarks.

"Sorry. I had a rough night. I didn't sleep well, and I have a stiff neck." She added in a much more pleasant tone.

Even as rough as she looked, she still looked sexy, Travis thought. Her little sleep shorts had ridden up and showed off a lot of leg, and even a little ass. The old tee-shirt she wore was thin and tight, it really showed off her big pointed tits and her big dark nipples stood out and were clearly visible through the thin fabric. He instantly felt a swelling in his cock.

Travis had been obsessing over his mother like never before, and painfully wanted to relive the events in the woods.

He didn't understand why she was playing so fucking hard to get. He didn't believe that shit about her being forced, not after what they done. He'd seen how she could get! He'd seen what a crazy horny slut she could be! He desperately wanted to see that side of her again.

Nonchalantly, he moved behind her chair and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Do you mind?" He asked.

Somewhat surprised, she replied: "Not at all. A neck massage would be great!"

Gentle he massaged the delicate muscles of his mom's neck and shoulders. She seemed so tiny in his large hands. Despite her ample attributes, she was a small boned, little woman.

Except for their coloring, they were the total opposites. He was tall, lean and muscular, like his father. She was petite and bodacious. It was hard to believe she'd given birth to him.

Towering over her, he could easily over power her, and do whatever he wanted, and she would love it, he thought! Some bitches like it rough! He'd seen those videos. His mom liked it liked that, he thought. It had got pretty rough that night in the woods, and she sure had loved it.