I'm Her Medication
Copyright© 2025 by HMaster
Chapter 3
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - When mom got kidnapped and trained as a sex addict, I became her Medication. "A shudder went through Mom's body as she slowly parted her lips, letting me slip the tip of my thumb between them, feeling the wetness of her mouth, and then the tip of her tongue brushing against it."
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Fiction Incest Mother Son Anal Sex Cream Pie First Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Safe Sex Sex Toys Tit-Fucking Big Breasts Slow
I followed Mom home, whispering, “Fuck,” as I spied Dad’s car already in the driveway. I walked into the house just behind her to find Dad standing in the hallway, a torrent of snarling words exploding from his lips.
“Again! I swear, Cassie -- you need to pray to God for the salvation of your soul. He has a special place reserved in Hell for sluts and whores like you!”
Mom stood her ground for a moment, but finally burst into tears, sobbing, “I’m sorry,” as she ran up the stairs. A moment later, the door to the guest bedroom slammed shut and I knew it would be another long freaking night in the Hunter home.
Dad glared at me as if I had betrayed him and maybe in my heart I had, before snapping at me, “Where the hell did you find her this time?”
I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Does it matter, Dad? She needs help.”
My father brushed past and into the living room, settling heavily into his old recliner. He picked up his newspaper and snapped it open with a loud pop. “Do you know who it was ... or was there more than one this time?”
I closed my eyes for a moment and sighed, a sudden vision of the three lowlifes naked and in bed with my mother, fucking her hard and brutally, not caring for her, just seeing her as another cheap whore they picked up in a bar ... Mom’s face contorted in absolute lust as they pounded their cocks into her. I drove the image from my mind and opening my eyes, replied, “Does it matter, Dad? We need to get Mom some real help.”
I was just short of my fifteenth birthday when Mom disappeared and by that, I mean she was kidnapped. It was just another uneventful day in the lives of the Hunter family when Mom announced she was off to the supermarket and asked me if I wanted anything special, rolling her eyes when I said jokingly, a six pack of beer. She ran her purse strap over her shoulder, smiled at me the way only a mother does and was out the door ... and she didn’t come back.
It was late afternoon before we knew anything was wrong and then only because a sheriff’s deputy came to the house and informed us that Mom’s minivan had been found deserted on a country road -- groceries still inside along with her wallet, credit card and forty-nine dollars in cash. Of Mom there was no sign and no clue as to what had happened.
Dad was stoic from the start, fearing to state the worst or the best scenarios possible. A massive search was begun -- combing fields and woods for miles around, but to no avail. It was as if Mom had vanished from the face of the earth. Days turned into weeks turned into months. The state police and the F.B.I. did all but announce she was considered dead and as the first year of her absence passed, Dad (who had been considered the most likely suspect, but who had clearly been at work at the time of her disappearance was completely exonerated), and I had the sense that Mom now dwelled in the realm of what law enforcement called the cold case files.
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