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Copyright© 2026 by ExtremeDarkPerversion
Chapter 8
Incest Story: Chapter 8 - A girl tells her mother she doesn't want to move in with her mother's boyfriend. She tells her that he is creepy. But the mother tells her she is imagining it. The boyfriend makes it clear she isn't.
Caution: This Incest Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Teenagers Rape Reluctant Heterosexual Humiliation Sadistic Torture Masturbation Indian Erotica
He is sitting on my bed with a small foldable study table. I am sitting on his lap, between him and the study table.
“Let’s start with time and work ... do you have any idea about this?”, he asks.
“Yes”, I reply.
“Hmmm ... so answer a simple question ... if a whore can make a guy cum in 15 mins, then how many minutes will she take to make 3 guys cum?”, he asks.
I don’t say anything. It’s not a real question.
He grabs my hair, yanks it from behind, and grabs my neck from the front. I scream in pain.
“Don’t waste time, fucking slut!”, he shouts.
“45 minutes...”, I say, and when he relaxes his hand a little bit on my neck, I push it away.
“Hmm ... let’s see...”, he says and switches on the TV ... he goes to a folder called fun.
He plays one of the videos.
I see my Mom in a small dark room surrounded by some 9-10 men. She is wearing a white crop top and a small mini skirt. She is seductively dancing and giggling. The men surrounding her are laughing, howling, and calling her dirty names. Sometimes they are slapping her ass, her face, or her breast. Sometimes they are giving small, quick squeezes. Some are squirting some kind of oil or lotion on her.
Immediately, I start getting wet. I imagine myself in the middle of nine or ten men like that, nine-ten perverts like him.
He places his hand between my legs. I push it off, then he places his hand on my inner thigh. I push it off, too. He places his hand on my thigh, closer to my knee. I know what he is doing. He is testing the waters. He thinks that at some point, I will let him do whatever he wants. I remember how I was grinding myself on his fingers, wrapping my hands tightly around him and kissing him. He thinks he can make me do those things. I hate myself that he is right.
She starts seductively and slowly takes off her top, one button at a time. After unbuttoning each button, she tries to pull her shirt back with a surprised expression as if the button got magically unbuttoned, she grinds her butt a little and goes to the next button.
Somebody hits my mother right on her breast. Suddenly, I see his hand raise and crash on my breast so hard it feels like it bursts.
I scream in pain and try to get out of his lap, but he grabs me with one hand and starts groping my hurt breast with the other.
As soon as I feel his hand on my burning, sensitive breast, I drown in lust. My hand had grabbed the molesting hand reflexively, but I didn’t try to push it away. He moves the other hand back again to between my legs and starts squeezing me there.
I am too powerless to push him off again. I keep watching Mom.
She unbuttons all the buttons and then tries to close the shirt back up before sliding it off and throwing it in the air.
Two men lunge at her. One man swallows her breast over her bra. Another man shoves his hand inside her skirt. She starts giggling while the other men pull them off.
She takes her tongue out and very slowly licks her entire lips, and gives a loud moan as men howl at her.
He slaps my other breast as hard as before. I scream again and start grinding my hips on a hand groping in between my legs. He starts kissing and sucking my neck from behind.