[INCEST] Chrysa-mom Rapes Anon


                                            Prompt:

                                            >lonely single mom Chrysalis

                                            >husband left her for a younger woman

                                            >fucked up her self-esteem, so is clingy and controlling of her son Anon as a result

                                            >relationship is initially non-sexual until she notices Anon becoming seriously interested in girls his own age

                                            >doesn't want her son to leave either, so she gets desperate and decides to do whatever it takes to keep him from leaving

                                            >starts working out again and wearing skimpier clothes

                                            >Anon initially thinks his mother has finally recovered from the ugly divorce and is trying to put herself back out into the dating world, so he's happy for her

                                            >that is until she starts seriously flirting with him

                                            >Chrysalis just wants to be loved


                                            I felt like incest needed to be portrayed in a sad way in this thread for once.


                                            Magic usually solves genetic issues with inbreeding in greens or there's some other handwavium.


                                            So how about someone who legitimately needs mental help, but doesn't know it, and is trying to use her son to repair her own shattered pride as a woman through sex because she can't help but project her jackass ex-husband onto him?


                                            ---------------------------------------


                                            "Mom?"

                                            >Mom looks up sharply from her position on the couch and hastily wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

                                            >"Wh-What is it, An-non?"

                                            >Oh, god.

                                            >Look at her.

                                            >Her eyes are red... her hair's a mess (green dye job... you guess she misread the instructions on the box or something)

                                            >You can see patches of skin through the holes in her old, worn-out (and favourite) housecoat.

                                            "Oh, mom..."

                                            >You sit down sit down on the couch next to her and rub her shoulder.

                                            >Mom leans towards you and hugs you tightly, sniffling and rubbing her face into your shoulder.

                                            >The last person you should be thinking about right now is yourself, but seeing your mom cry like this is making you feel the most uncomfortable that you have ever felt.

                                            >"A-Anon, baby..."

                                            "Mom, what's the matter?"

                                            >You rub her back.

                                            "What's wrong?"

                                            >"I-I-I... It's just..."

                                            >She sniffles sits there for a second, holding you in silence.

                                            >"Af-after your date with R-Rainbow Dash, I... You're interested in other g-girls now."

                                            >She squeezes you tightly and rubs her face against the side of your neck.

                                            >"Baby, y-you're all I have l-left, now..."

                                            >Oh god, your heart can't take much more of this.

                                            "Mom, no. I'd never... just because I start dating doesn't mean I'll start ignoring you."

                                            >You want to pull away and give your mom a reassuring smile, but her arms tighten and she won't let you move.

                                            >Mom shakes her head 'no' into your neck.

                                            >"I'm n-not sure I want you to b-be seeing her, baby."

                                            >You've got to try and think of a way for her to not see your girlfriend as...

                                            >As what?

                                            >Competition?

                                            >That's a bit fucked up; some other word that means when your mom thinks that your girlfriend/wife is stealing you away from her.

                                            "Hey, why don't we have Rainbow Dash over for dinner some time? You an' me could go through a cookbook and make dinner together, like we did when I was a kid."

                                            >You give your mom's back a firm rub

                                            "Remember?


                                            >Mom just whimpers and begins shaking.

                                            >Oh god, you fucked up.

                                            >You thought including Rainbow would make mom less... mom-jealous!

                                            >Okay, damage-control.

                                            >What can you say t-

                                            >~kissu~

                                            >You barely feel the first butterfly kiss on your neck, but you certainly feel the next (more firmer) one.

                                            >And the one after that.

                                            >And the one after that.

                                            >You're frozen in shock

                                            "M-mom?"

                                            >What's happening?

                                            >Mom moans a little bit and kisses your neck again.

                                            >You try to pull away from her, but she won't let you.

                                            "Mom, st-stop!"

                                            >Mom's started crying again.

                                            >"P-please, baby," she hiccups, "Let mommy have this. She-"

                                            >She swallows, interrupting herself.

                                            >"I need this s-so bad, baby."

                                            >No.

                                            >You can't.

                                            >You don't want this.

                                            >You want to move but you can't.

                                            >Is this real?

                                            >Her hands roam around your back, rubbing you sensually in ways that put the frantic rubbing and grabbing you experienced with Rainbow Dash to shame.

                                            >Mom's lips slowly paint a trail of lipstick up your neck and across your jaw, and you aren't sure if you feel trepidation or anticipation as she grows closer and closer to your mouth.

                                            >You can feel her hot breath on the corner of your lips.

                                            >MOM's hot breath.

                                            >"I need this, baby," she whispers over and over, whenever her lips part ways from your skin, "Let me have this, please."

                                            >Someone's crying, and you aren't sure that it's just your mom anymore.


                                            >Mom's hand snakes down your chest and into your lap, and she clumsily fools with your waistband.

                                            >You try to push her away, but your arms are shaking and feel like they weigh a hundred pounds.

                                            "D-Don't do th-that..."

                                            >"Shhh...." she licks your neck, making you shudder.

                                            >"It's okay, baby," she whispers into your ear, her voice no longer sounding comforting and maternal.

                                            >"Just let it happen, okay?"

                                            >Mom sticks her hands down into your pants and starts rubbing your penis

                                            >She isn't gripping it or anything; she's just rubbing it with the palm of her hand.

                                            >"Just let it happen."

                                            >You try your best to think of something else. Not just to keep yourself from getting hard, but you also want to think about something other than what's happening right now

                                            >Anything else.

                                            >Anything but this.

                                            "I-I-I d-don't wanna..."

                                            >Your breaths are coming in gasps.

                                            >Mom finally wraps her hand around your member and gives it a few sloppy pumps.

                                            >Her hand bumps against your balls over and over again.

                                            >"Let it happen."

                                            >Tears leave hot tracks down your cheeks and a searing blush (is it from shame or arousal?) erupts on your face as you feel yourself slowly getting hard.

                                            "Don' wanna..."

                                            >Mom coos and moves to plant a kiss on your lips.

                                            >You try and pull away, but she uses her penis-free hand to wrap around the back of your head and pull you back.

                                            >"Nuh-uh."

                                            >Another kiss on the lips; this one much more forceful, and she tries to push her tongue into your mouth.

                                            >"S-stay here, honey."

                                            >She gives your cock another pump, successfully bringing you to full-mast.

                                            >"Stay here with mommy."

                                            >The next minute or two seem to stretch on and last forever.

                                            >Mom is staring you dead in the eye, tears streaming down her cheeks (with you no-doubt mirroring her) as she pushes her tongue against your unresponsive mouth muscle.

                                            >Your lack of reciprocation must be frustrating her, because she legs go of your dick and grabs your wrist.

                                            >"D-Do something!" she hisses.


                                            >Mom guides your hand to her chest and presses your hand to her breast, forcing you to mash your hand against it.

                                            >"Touch me, Anon," she groans, saying your name for the first time since she began this assault on your body and your mind.

                                            >"Love me."

                                            >Everything is in a haze and you obey her without really even thinking about it.

                                            >Maybe you think she'll stop if you listen to her.

                                            >You just don't know what to think any more.

                                            >A hard nub presses against your palm, and you decide to focus on that.

                                            >Mom hums in approval and returns her hand to your still-hard member.

                                            >"Don't fight it, baby."

                                            >She moves her lips away from your own and has gone back to your neck, seemingly content with suckling on the reddened and tooth-marked skin down there.

                                            >Despite yourself, you feel an orgasm approaching.

                                            >You find a minute amount of strength and try to squirm away from mom, but she holds you tight.

                                            >You try and speak, but you can only make gasping noises. Your vocal cords refuse to make a sound.

                                            >She moves her face close to yours so that she can look you in the eyes.

                                            >"Y-You gonna c-cum, baby?" she asks, her voice quivering, "G-Gonna cum for m-mommy?"

                                            >You think you see a flash of regret in her eyes at the word "mommy", but you might be imagining it.


                                            >She rushes back to your shoulder and buries her face into your neck, just like she did when she was crying and you were comforting her a thousand years ago.

                                            >The hand on her breast squeezes involuntarily, making mom moan in such a horrible, sensual way.

                                            >It just might be the worst noise you've ever heard in your life, and you never ever want to hear it ever ever again.

                                            >"Yes..." she sighs, nipping on your neck, "C'mon, honey."

                                            >She presses a tender kiss into your bruised skin.

                                            >"Be mine, okay? Stay with mommy."

                                            >You can't do this.

                                            >You can't do this you can't do this youcan'tdothisyoucantdothisyoucan-

                                            >You gasp and shake as your orgasm peaks and you make a white, sticky mess in your underwear.

                                            >You collapse forward like a mannequin with its strings cut as soon as the last aftershocks of your climax rock through your body.

                                            >"Good boy," coos mom, "You're such a good boy to me, Anon."

                                            >You think you might be sick.