Chapter 11: The Return of Damon ... and he’s brought a friend!

They didn’t linger in the shower long. Shawna’s son sucked and licked her clit, his fingers probing inside of her until she came; first once then twice and then, finally, three times, until she begged him to stop. Jason, for once, listened to his mom and did as she asked. They ended by washing themselves, Shawna in a morose and resigned silence, clean of the sweat and sexual juices that had accumulated on their bodies before rinsing off and getting out. There was no time to curl up in the fetal position while the raining hot water beat down; curl up and have another mournful session of sobbing because Jason wouldn’t allow it. He watched her as she cleaned herself and when he was satisfied she was done, Jason turned off the water and led her out of the shower. He then laid out clothes for her, a nice flattering pair of black slacks, a pretty and thin braided leather belt and her favorite white turtleneck. The bra and panties were both

plain and white as were the socks. The shoes were black; a shiny pair that she had never seen before. The top was mostly open, with a covering just for the toes that was topped with a leather tassel. Near the ankle there was a just a strap that went over the foot and there was something about the wholesome nature of those shoes that made her even more afraid. After all, her son had just passed over all of the shoes with laces and instead picked a pair that could easily be slipped on and just as easily be slipped off.

I ... they ... Children ... B-boys ... teen boys ... they ... I-I’m going to be raped ... raped

again and by little ... teen boys boys ... barely fourteen ... they ... I ... they’re going to have their things in me ... their pee ... their penises ... in me ... up ... up inside my vagina again ... again today. And some of them ... will be ... they ... they’re going to be niggers ... I ... I ... I’m going to have the kuh-cock of ... of at least one nuh-nigger in me tuh-today. Black cock ... in my h-holiest of ... h-holies. I ... I don’t know if I ... if I can l-live through something like that again.

This was the thought that now ran through Shawna’s mind when she saw Jason pick out those shoes and, along with it, came an overwhelming sense of weakness. She couldn’t do anything about it, this horrible humiliating future. She was going to be raped here, inside the comfort of her own elegant suburban home and maybe, someday, Shawna could figure out a way to make it stop. For now though, resisting would only make it worse, longer and more humiliating and had the added danger of hurting the people she loved. Jason told her to go dry her hair and the routine and time-consuming task, her towel tied around her under her arms, almost brought back to her a sense of normalcy, as if her previous life had returned. Still, that sick ball of fear remained inside her; its continuous and all-consuming sensation a terrible reminder of the future that lay in store and probably sooner rather than later. In another 30 minutes, Shawna’s hair was dry and she was dressed. She was just coming down the stairs, intending on going into the kitchen to see if there was any coffee and maybe even eating some breakfast when the doorbell rang. Shawna’s knees immediately went weak. Her last assault had barely even ended and now there was that sound; so normal and yet also so shrill and so terrifying because of the dreadfulness that it forbade. On unsteady legs, the pretty Catholic mom now went to the door. Her heart hammered in her chest while her mind spun, unable to think of anything other than what new and vile punishment she would suffer if she did anything but fully cooperate. When her shaking hand grasped the doorknob and was finally able pull the door open, Damon’s smiling face greeted her. He was dressed just as he had been on the previous day; wearing a dirty and ragged jeans jacket and off-color blue jeans that were frayed everywhere that they weren’t actually ripped. With him stood another boy, it was the one who had handed Damon the clippers, the ones he had used to shave her pussy bald.

“Mrs. McDonnell, so nice to see you!”

Damon’s voice was gleeful; the formal way he addressed her just another manner by which he mocked her position as a powerless fucktoy. Shawna could do nothing but

stand there motionless, desperately trying to think of how she could escape. For now, the pretty Catholic mom simply stood in the doorway, blocking the boy’s entrance to the house. It was another desperate and completely pointless gesture that couldn’t keep them from coming in. Damon now smiled and reached out his right hand until it pressed up between her legs, the pressure of his finger on her slit, even though it was over her clothes, still made the pretty Catholic mom jerk her hips back.

“Still don’t like having your pussy touched” said Damon still

smiling. He now stepped into the space that Shawna had occupied just a second ago and he did so, once again, with a tremendous leap forward. His skinny black arms thrust outwards as he did so; once again catching the suburban mom just under her ribs. The force of the blow lifted her off the ground, just as it had the last time, but now there was no bus seat for her to fall into. This time it was just the metal railing and the three carpeted steps that separated the tiny space intended as a foyer from the rest of the house. Even though it was

broken, Shawna instinctively reached out her left hand as both of her arms were flailing and, for a moment, three of the fingers that were sticking out of her cast actually wrapped around the railing before the weight of her falling body pulled them free. She instead fell back against the stairs where the ½ inch thick Beaumont Park Softly Chic white carpet seemed to offer her no cushion between the edge of those stairs and her delicate lower back. In the two or three seconds that she lay there, Damon and the other boy now casually walked in before the other boy first shut and then locked the front door behind them.

“You ever do anything other than get the fuck out of my way when I’m standing on your front porch again and there’s going to be hell to pay.”

A storm cloud of anger had crossed over Damon’s once smiling face and the 14-year-old psychopath made his way around Shawna’s stretched out form as she struggled to get up. Before she could do so Damon had grabbed a fistful of her hair; his fingers twisting their way through her long chestnut locks before he started dragging her up the stairs. While Shawna screamed and flailed Damon’s other hand wrapped around her throat so those screams of pain became a muffled and strangled gurgle. Both her arms and her legs now thrashed and Shawna actually helped Damon pull her up the stairs as the only intent in her panicked mind was to reduce the pain in her scalp.

“Whoa.”

It was the other boy, whispering in both admiration and disbelief. Damon might have told him he had a 38-year-old, suburban white mom as his own sexual plaything but hearing about it was one thing and seeing it was another. As Shawna’s shapely bottom finally crested over the top stair, Damon started to drag her backwards. Around the railing the two of them both went, while Shawna still thrashed and Damon’s friend trailed after them; his eyes wide in astonished disbelief. Shawna was now dragged over to the white leather couch that sat under the big bay window. It had always been her favorite piece of furniture although the pretty Catholic mom knew she wasn’t about to spend her day reading a novel while warm sunlight streamed in from outside. Instead, Damon propped her up against its base, just as Jason had propped her up earlier against a pile of pillows on the bed and, by the time poor Shawna realized what was about to happen, the 14-year-old black boy had already straddled her. His hands now quickly opened his jeans and a coal black cock, much larger than the one she had seen hanging between her own son’s legs, was pulled free from his pants. The pretty Catholic mom now gaped in both awe and fear at the unbelievable enormity of Damon’s semi-aroused black penis while, at the same time, she caught a whiff of its scent. It was a mild and musky odor that smelled like sweat and manhood and maybe a little bit of Irish Spring, and the thought of what was going to happen to her next made Shawna instinctively turn her head away. She was resisting and it now occurred to Shawna that this would mean punishment but the pretty Catholic mom couldn’t bring herself to turn and face the black dick of a 14-year-old boy that was only inches from her mouth. In fact, it wasn’t until Damon moved his feet on top of her fingertips, then grabbed her throat and rose up on his tiptoes that Shawna moved at all and, in the end, it was just one more scream that got strangled in her throat. Damon now squeezed and stood on those delicate, feminine fingers and, while Shawna screamed and turned her head until she almost lost consciousness, the pressure on her neck started to fade. She could now breathe again and the pain in her fingers was decreasing too. Her head was being rotated around to the left but also pulled forward while Damon bent his knees. The heavy work boot on his right foot once again increased its pressure on her fingers and, when Shawna opened her mouth to cry out, again, in pain, she felt something impossibly large being shoved in the open space. It filled her mouth completely and forced her to relax her jaw and, while it pushed down hard along the length of her tongue, Damon pulled her head towards him while he thrust his hips forward. Shawna now felt every sensation with a detail that, of a couple of days ago, would have been unbelievable as the underside of that sweaty and salty black cock slid down the length of her tongue. Its thick and meaty tip wedged in the back of her throat and this made her gag while her air supply was cut off and her virtuous white mom’s nose was buried in Damon’s coarse and coal black long nigger pubes.

“Ah god fuck Mrs. McConnell,” Damon now exclaimed loudly. His voice was gleeful; it was filled with a rapturous joy as if something he had been looking forward to for a very long time was now, finally, being acheived.

“Oh god fuck yeah” the black boy now said again and his two hands moved to the side of Shawna’s head. He grabbed hold of her ears and pulled them back and forth while, at the same time, he moved his pelvis. Damon continued to crow loudly as the 14-year-old black boy slid his cock back and forth inside the pretty white Catholic mom’s mouth.

“God I’ve been waiting to force feed you my cock since Jason first described you! God! Fuck! Yeah! God Mrs. McDonnell it feels so good to have you sucking my cock, almost as much as knowing that’s your stuck-up, holier-than-thou pretty white mom tongue sliding over the bottom of my 14-year-old black boy cock.”

The diminutive black boy who had been responsible for breaking her now took the first of his many spoils and Shawna had no choice but to sit there and accommodate him as he had her upper body firmly pinned against the couch.

“God! Fuck! Jason get over here with that camera! Dude we should be getting this on video!”

A moment later Jason’s smiling face came into view; at least when Damon didn’t have her face pressed up against his belly. Her own son’s face was partially obscured by the McDonnell family video camera. It was silver and boxy, made up of plastic and glass, its lens reflecting back a tiny image of her. Shawna could do nothing, only watch as her son happily recorded her latest revolting subjugation. Her green eyes stared into the lens of the camera as her head rocked back and forth and the pretty Catholic mom wondered what she should do with the knowledge that now there would be another film of her, a wholesome and upstanding 38-year-old white suburban American mom, sucking the cock of a black 14-year-old boy. They would be able to show it to anyone they wanted to and now, if she was ever to escape this, she would have to round up every copy of this tape as well or else figure out a way to convince these boys to hand them all over. That was for later though, Shawna now knew, as the pretty Catholic mom felt Damon’s large balls start to swing back and forth. Each time they came forward the dreaded and disgusting body part repeatedly slapped against her chin and throat. Even after everything that had happened Shawna still couldn’t believe her son was enjoying her downfall. In her mouth Damon’s penis seemed to be swelling and Shawna knew, in a matter of seconds, this latest form of her defeat, the first time she had ever been forced to suck the cock of a 14-year-old black boy, would be over. That massive black rod, the one that reminded her so much of a snake, was now fully hard, and the pretty Catholic mom struggled to handle it as the thick rod slid back and forth over her tongue. Somehow Damon knew, he always managed to pull out until its tip was just barely between her lips. Then he would shove it back in; not stopping until her forehead was pressed against his belly and his coarse pubic hair was scratching her face. Shawna’s jaw ached as she repeatedly had to open her mouth almost as wide as she was able as Damon shoved his 14-year-old black cock back in and, like the broken woman she truly was, Shawna closed it again. She was now too afraid of what would happen if she failed to keep her tongue pressed up against the underside of any boy’s cock. As it continued, Damon started to thrust his hips and pull on her ears with ever greater rapidity. The sound of his breathing changed, it too increased its speed as the black boy started to whine.

“Huhhhh-uhhhhhh-UNHHHHHHHNUH ... OH GOD FUCK!”

Now the dreaded moment finally arrived. That first slimy blast slammed into the back of her throat. Like Damon’s cock itself, it was impossibly large and the fact that it happened when he had the whole thing shoved in her mouth made it impossible for her to do anything but swallow.

Oh! M-my g-god. Is this what my life huh-has come to? I ... I’m to spend my days letting 14-year-old boys do nothing but stick their penises in me? Is this what I’ve come to? Being a 38-year-old devout Catholic mom who spends her days taking the semen of one 14-year-old boy after another both in my pussy and my mouth?

Shawna never got to answer that question for it was at that moment that the sensation of Damon’s first massive load splattering against the back of her throat exploded in her brain. He had stepped off her hands and Shawna’s arms now rose up; they placed themselves on Damon’s hips in a half-hearted attempt to pull her face away. Like everything else she had done though, this latest resistance was in vain. Damon wasn’t stopping for anything, certainly not for her pathetic efforts to defend herself, and the pretty Catholic mom now felt her throat gag and her stomach retch as at least a 1/3rd of a cup of that vile and slimy, foul-tasting substance gushed into her throat and coated the back of her tongue. There was a second involuntary reflex as her entire body now heaved, bucking so hard in utter overpowering revulsion that it threatened to curl into the shape of a horseshoe. The only reason it didn’t was due to the weight of Damon’s body as it crushed her delicate fingers and kept her shoulders pinned back. Surely, if the pretty Catholic mom had anything in her stomach other than the cum of her own son; Shawna would have violently vomited it up. As it was though, she was helplessly pinned back against the couch and Damon pulled on her ears while the seemingly never-ending load of his repulsive and oily cum now poured out of his 14-year-old cock and filled up the back of her throat. She was smothering. Shawna knew it and, while the pretty Catholic mom tried to put off the moment as long as possible, as spurt after hot unctuous spurt continued to spray in her mouth, eventually she still had to breathe. In less than a minute, her survival instinct overpowered her horrified loathing and then another previously unthinkable act started to occur. The next thing Shawna knew, the muscles in her throat alternately contracted and relaxed and time slowed down for the pretty Catholic mom. The sensation of a 14-year-old black boy’s semen as it oozed down her throat and into her stomach now seemingly lasted forever. Shawna felt all of it go like a solid slithering snake slimily sliding slowly down her throat. It crept behind her rib cage and seemed to tickle her breasts and only after an eternity did it land, solidly in her stomach, where it floated like an inflated beach ball bobbing in a sea of her own disgust. Damon’s cock was now retreating again and Shawna thought with relief it must be over. But when only the tip remained between her lips, the hated black rod started spraying again, this time not only shooting a single solid stream like a garden hose but squirting a watery substance in what felt like 180 degrees of coverage. This new and different substance seemed to cover everything. It felt as though it coated the insides of her cheeks, covered her teeth and positively filled up in massive watery pools that collected next to her gums. And inside this watery spray came again those same thick and sticky ropes; Shawna couldn’t help but picture them in her mind’s eye as she had so recently seen them crisscrossing the entirety of her face. Inside her mouth, they now seemed to lay down, one right next to the other, an uncountable number of gluey and solid lines that only got smashed further into her tongue as Damon’s steamrolling cock now shoved itself forward.

“AWWWWWWHHHHHH-OOOOOOAAAHHHHHHH!”

Damon moaned in ecstasy as Shawna now felt another huge load of sticky 14-year-old boy cum go gushing into her throat. This too the pretty Catholic mom forced herself to swallow and this was also followed by a retching heave that shook her entire body. Even then, it wasn’t over for Damon’s ejaculations seemed to be never ending.

“GAHH!! AHH!! AHH!!”

The volume of Damon’s spray and the speed with which the 14-year-old black boy pumped his cock back and forth in the white mom’s mouth now, finally, seemed to be abating. All of this happened while Shawna tried to get free and struggled to not vomit while, at the same time, she desperately wanted to rinse out her mouth.

“Awh ... Awh my gaw ... oh gawf ... you ... you fiwled up my mauf.” Shawna stated once Damon had removed his enormous cock. The pretty Catholic mom now complained through what sounded like a mouthful of paste but, rather than be sympathetic, his only response was to grab her hair and her chin again. Damon then tilted Shawna’s elegant head back and slowly began to stroke her throat; all while talking in a soft and low voice.

“That’s alright, that’s o.k. baby.” Damon now crooned, “you go ahead and show us you know the proper role of all suburban white moms. Go on, go ahead and show us all that your you know that the highest honor any white American mom can ever receive is a mouthful of cum, given to her by a 14-year-old black boy she hardly even knows. Show us that you understand that now by swallowing down the rest of my seed.”

Damon now leaned over Shawna while the pretty Catholic mom stared up at him her formerly sparkling green eyes burning with the white hot hatred of 1000 suns. Damon kept her mouth closed and her head tilted back and, after pinching shut her nose, the pretty Catholic mom finally relented. She could no longer breathe but, still, it took almost a full minute before she finally gave up. Now, Shawna swallowed down the final load of Damon’s semen that lay in the back of her throat. It was another hot and slimy, massive salty globule. It was oozing and gelatinous and Shawna once again experienced the sensation of swallowing like she had never had before. Damon’s cum now dripped and it dropped, it slipped and then stuck, finally sliding, millimeter by millimeter from the back of her throat and down towards her stomach. It tickled and burned her entire esophagus, seeming to radiate throughout her entire body the excruciating bitterness of her humiliation and defeat. It oozed past her breasts, once again seeming to tickle them from the inside before finally landing in her stomach where it sat like an acid stone, never letting her forget that she’d been forced to swallow the cum of a 14-year-old black boy that she’d only met a few days before. Now, finally, there was nothing left but the residue which, no matter how hard she tried, Shawna couldn’t seem to get rid of from inside her mouth. It clung to every surface, a revolting taste of water and salt and sliminess; it was all that she could focus on at least until Damon started to pull on her hair. He had climbed up onto the couch and now, standing on it, he yanked upwards on Shawna’s hair causing her arms, in turn, to pinwheel and flail. One pushed off the ground and the other pressed into the couch, the pretty Catholic mom finally got her feet under her as she now stood up as quickly as she could.

“OW!!! OW! OW!”

Shawna shrieked in pain as she was brutally pulled upwards and, in a second, the pretty Catholic mom was standing on her feet.

“Up whore” ordered Damon as he pulled on her hair. Once she was standing he did not release her but, instead, kept a grip on her hair.

“Roo man, I told you I got some stuck up and prude suburban white mom of almost 40 as my own personal piece of fuck meat. Man get on over here and get those pants of hers off. Let’s get that tasty white mom cunt out for the only thing its good for.”

The boy Damon had called Roo still seemed unsure of himself but he did walk slowly forward until he was standing in front of Shawna. His hands then reached up and the 14-year-old black boy who Shawna had never even spoken to before started taking off her pants. For a moment it was just a light touch while his hands were at her belt but, with first a flip and then a tug the pointed end was undone and the metal pin pulled free. Then Roo was pulling at her pants, the top edge of the thin black fabric pulling into her hips from both the back and the sides as the front was squeezed together. Back through the little slit her pant’s plastic button now went and then there was a slight release of pressure. The two sides of her pants hung loose and only became looser as Roo pulled down her zipper. Though she couldn’t see it, for Shawna’s eyes were closed as she stood there and softly cried, the image was burned in her brain. She pictured herself from the vantage point of her son, five feet back and to her left, watching as the smooth olive tinted flatness of her feminine lower belly and her white cotton panties were now exposed. This precious, intimate undergarment was the last barrier between her most sensitive and private area and a 14-year-old black boy. Roo’s hands now moved to the top edge of Shawna’s pants and, while Damon held her up by her hair, which was still threatening to be ripped out by the roots, Roo took off Shawna’s pants. The pretty Catholic mom now felt every sensation, no matter how slight, with an excruciating clarity as it tickled over her thighs, her own clothing seemingly taunting her, then went past her knee high white socks and, finally, pooled around her ankles. Roo then lifted each ankle, one at a time, and, with the thumb of his other hand hooked in the material of her pants guided it over her shoe before finally pulling it off. Her pretty black slacks were then flung behind him, landing in a heap in the middle of the living room floor. The 14-year-old black boy who had just taken them off her now got to his feet, his simian face only a few inches away from her trembling lips, and let out a deep and shuddering sigh. Shawna was shuddering too although the pretty Catholic mom knew the boy shook with excitement and not revulsion and fear like she did. His hands rose up and the pretty Catholic mom gave a little whimper, Shawna’s eyes now closed while her face contorted into a mask of mortified agony. Hot pain in her scalp now bloomed again, like fire, and Damon was whispering in her ear, asking her who told her she could shut her eyes and that she was never to shut them, she was to watch everything that happened to her and understand her new and permanent subservient role. That agony in her scalp now increased even more, the skin feeling for sure as if it would rip away at any moment, until Shawna, finally, opened her eyes. She looked down to see Roo smiling up at her and yet another small whimper escaped her tightly pursed lips as the sensation of his thumbs hooking in her pretty white panties came screaming into her brain.

“Time for a fully grown 38-year-old suburban white soccer mom to just stand there while a 14-year-old black boy she ain’t ever even spoke to takes off her panties. Take ‘em off the whole time she knowin’ her little white pussy bein’ brought out to play.”

Shawna knew every word the black boy spoke was true and still, she was helpless to do anything about it. Her life was sacrificed, the pretty Catholic mom kept reminding herself, so those she loved wouldn’t be hurt. Now that sensation came again, that horrifying sensation of tickling as her panties came down and Roo’s two small thumbs slid down the outside of her legs. It was her last layer of modesty; the sensation only changing as the boy’s fingers went from touching her delicate skin to sliding over her white, knee-high socks.

“Whoa fuck, that is a pretty white mom pussy...” Roo now stated with awe.

“Maybe the prettiest one I ever seen, although I bet it look even better if we shave off that little bit of stubble.”

One of Shawna’s feet was lifted off the ground and it was followed by the other. Like he had done with her pants, Roo guided her panties over each foot while Shawna watched helplessly; her last layer of modesty was now sailing through the air, a short and gradual arc until it landed in a heap, directly on top of her slacks. The pretty Catholic mom could only stare in horror, the image of her pants and panties both several feet away had her transfixed. She merely stood there, nude from the waist down, her 38-year-old shaved suburban mom pussy easily in reach of a boy still in junior high school. Shawna now stayed that way until Roo pushed on her hips while Damon let go of her hair and then she was falling backwards. The cushion beneath her let out a huge whooshing rush of air as Shawna landed on top of it then hissed as it continued to slowly deflate. To her right, Damon was jumping off the couch while, to her left, Jason stood smiling while he continued to film everything with the McDonnell family video camera. For a moment, Roo’s hands were on her knees and the pretty Catholic mom was afraid this 14-year-old boy, who was a complete stranger to her, was going to push her legs apart, leaving her pussy once again exposed and helpless. In the end though, Roo did as Damon had; the 14-year-old black boy instead stepped over her knees and then sat astride her thighs, his crotch so close that it almost touched her shirt.

“Figure it be best to get you completely naked before we go any further.”

Roo’s coal black eyes glittered as he now stared at Shawna. His hands reached for the bottom edge of her pretty white turtleneck, the soft material of the shirt being wrapped between his fingers before the boy started to lift it up.

“Ooh man” Roo now exclaimed in awe as Shawna’s flat and feminine stomach came into view.

“Dayyyyyyyyuhhhhhmmmm!”

Shawna’s turtleneck crested her bra and, when Roo saw the size of the large white cups; he let out his exclamation. His hands pressed against her arms and Shawna whimpered as those two delicate appendages rose; the pretty Catholic mom knew where this was leading and was desperate to stop it. Her arms were up and Roo was pulling her forward now; her shoulders lifting off the couch cushion behind her before her shirt rose in front of her face. He was struggling, and not being gentle, until eventually, the boy just stood up and pulled with all his might. The material of the turtleneck now dragged itself over Shawna’s face, compressing her delicate nose and squeezing her tender forehead until, finally, her head popped free. With a cheer of glee, Roo now jumped down, his knees hitting the cushions on either side of Shawna as he enthusiastically continued to tug at her shirt. One hand went to the long chestnut hair that still lay in the neck hole and, this time, rather unexpectedly, the boy now gently lifted it out. His fingers then moved to her right arm and pinched the sleeve at the top, where it still clung to Shawna’s arm. Helpless the pretty Catholic mom watched as the expensive fabric slid down, past her elbow, then her wrist and then finally over her hand and off until it was time to do the same to the other arm; the pretty white turtleneck was then tossed behind Roo; landing in the center of Shawna’s growing pile of discarded clothes.