Title: Like His Uncle Keywords: mF, mf, teen, mat, inc, cheat, nc, mdom, mom, son, brother, sister Author: Caesar Summary: Her brother having raped her as a teenager, turning her into his sex toy, so to does her son. There was a young German named Ringer Who was screwing an opera singer. Said he with a grin, "Well, I've sure got it in!" Said she, "You mean that ain't your finger?" Like His Uncle By Caesar, copyright 2006 Edited by Mikhail (circa 2006), Revision 1.1 $Revision: 1.3 $ $Date: 2007-12-02 07:47:45 $ Janet took an apple from the bowl and took a bite before mumbling, "Oh, Jake said something about wanting to see you up in his room mom." I looked up from the sudsy water in the sink - my only son wanted to see me upstairs? Alarm bells should be going off right? But this was just another family weeknight - my husband was in the next room watching the news, my eldest daughter Janet seemed busy with her homework as usual, my youngest daughter Jenny was upstairs probably on the phone with one of her friends. The supper dishes were nearly complete and put away, only a few pots left. Normal. But why did I have this nervous twitch deep in my stomach? Let me tell you a little about Jake before I go on. He is the spitting image of his uncle George, my brother, when he was seventeen. At that age I was in love with my brother. I don't mean I loved him as a brother, but as the strongest male influence in my life and in the physical sense. I was two years younger than George and it started when I was eleven. An awkward time; Just starting puberty and even my own brother and father were starting to look at me differently. George just came to my room late one night, woke me up, and as he was pushing me to the floor he took out his penis and grunted, "open your mouth", and proceeded to use me until he filled my mouth with his salty seed. After he finished, I was left there, laying on the floor sobbing, semen running from my lips. Yes, my brother George raped me, repeatedly, almost nightly I learned quickly not to disappoint him. The very next night, he came in and pushed me to the floor yet again. I knew what was about to happen and fought him viciously. George just sat down on the edge of my bed and threw me over his lap, yanking down my pyjama bottoms and exposing my bare posterior and proceeded to spank me again and again until I was begging and pleading for him to stop. When it was over and he dumped me back on the floor between his legs, I never denied him, doing my best to not choke on his hard penis. Oral sex became full blown intercourse in only a few short months. I became his secret sexual toy and he used me at least once per day. I denied him nothing. Why didn't I tell my parents, a teacher, someone? Well, back then sex wasn't discussed and the public knowledge that my brother was 'doing it with me' was just too humiliating to tell a teacher or our family priest. What about my parents then? Well, after George started to come to my room at night, I realized what those looks he used to give me were about - lust. My father was giving me those same mile-long gazes, often glaring at my teenage half-grown breasts, and it terrified me, I did not want to have two guys forcing me against my will. To this day, I am convinced that my mother knew what George had done to me and stood by doing nothing. The evidence was just too damning, the coincidences for being caught together to obvious. George never thought twice about having sex with me when mom was in the house - and not once did she interrupt, no matter how loud we were. That always disturbed me more than father for some reason that I dared not delve too deeply into. As time went on, I came to enjoy our sexual encounters, sucking and fucking, how, and what to do to pleasure him. I knew every millimetre of that penis and can still see it when I close my eyes, now, decades later. I was in love; though, looking back, it was obviously one way. George did a damn fool thing and went to the United States to join the Marines and consequently got himself killed in some numerically named hill in Vietnam. I was in mourning for nearly eighteen months. To this day, I have told no one, not even my husband, this secret. Then there was Jake, my eldest child and the spitting image of his long dead uncle. My mother commented on the physical similarities when Jake was still a toddler, saying George looked exactly like him at the same age. I unsuccessfully tried to ignore her words but they clenched my heart in a cold fist and would not let go. The changes started as Jake entered puberty consequently he started to act different, not so alike the boy that came to my room to rape my mouth so long ago. It was awkward around him, I did whatever I could do to avoid being alone with the teenager. I became a distant parent, doing my duty and nothing else. When Jake was fifteen, I started to notice how my eldest daughter Janet, fourteen at the time, was looking at him with something bordering on idol worship. Had I looked at George in that way later in our relationship? Had Jake been at his sister Janet turning her into some sexual toy to be used at his whim? I did not delve too deep, scared of what I may find, but the thought continued to terrify me; even to this day. What would I do if it were true? Janet took another bite of her apple and strode into the adjoining room where her father sat watching the news. I was being silly right? Jake probably just had a paper from school that had to be signed or something. I wiped my hands dry on the dish towel and strode up the stairs to the door of my son's room. Just as I raised my hand to knock another wave of fear rushed through my body and I had to tell myself how stupid I was, I was Jake's mother for god sake. "Come in mother." Had I knocked, I couldn't remember? Opening the door I stepped in looking around his messy room, "Hi honey, Janet said you wanted to see me." I put on my pleasant Motherly-face. Jake stood up and strode up to the door, his determined advance causing a flutter of nausea to hit me. I did not like being alone with him like this and with him so close just caused me to tense up. He closed the door and before I could utter a word, he stepped up directly before me. Fear clenched at my heart - he looked so like his uncle George, intense gray eyes, strong large features, even the full red lips. What was going on? Surprising me, he shoved me back against the closed door, banging my head so violently that I saw stars. Then he was on me holding me against the door as his lips slammed against my own, his tongue invading my mouth. This was no kiss, but an assault. He could care less if I enjoyed it, or even that I was his mother that he was attacking. I tried to scream with his mouth covering mine - and came out muffled and weak. My hands finally moved and I struck at his hard shoulders and arms in a vain attempt to stop my son from doing this. I prayed to god, something I had not done since before I fell in love with my brother George, when his attacks had been nothing resembling pleasure for me. But just like my early teens, god was not listening. Then Jake stopped, leaning his face away from my own, smirking as if he owned me. That was when my hand came up and struck at one side of his face. His smirk dissolving into fury and I regretted my strike even before I saw his hand approaching. It hurt like hell and I was thrown to the floor on my side, one side of my face on fire. I felt his hands yanked me up off my hip to my knees and looked up just as the hand descended yet again, on the other cheek. I tasted blood and my eyes began to tear up. I was still stunned and in pain, but the horror of my situation had not yet sunken in. I was savagely thrown to the bed and lay there gasping, holding my cheeks in pain, shocked. Next to my dangling feet, Jake began to remove his clothing - the jeans, tee shirt, and then underwear all falling to the floor to add to the mess. That was when reality sunk in, that this was happening again; the horror, the pain and the humiliation. I turned on the bed and frantically began to crawl to the far side, trying to get as far away from my only son as quickly as possible. I couldn't move. I shouted and kicked at the hand with my free foot, just as with my ankle he caught that as well. I could see Jake smirking - his penis rising - god help me. Then I was kneeling on the messy hardwood floor of my son's room, a fist intertwined in my long hair roughly holding me still. The free hand came down again and struck my left cheek again ,for only a split second I thought I was going to mercifully black out, but the spots in my eyes quickly disappeared. Like his dead uncle George, whom he had mercifully never met, Jake had a large throbbing penis the likes I had never seen, with one exception. I went through guys without consideration after George died until I met Jake's father. The cock was circumcised, which I had already known as his father had demanded it, with a large pink smooth crown a long thick ribbed shaft that jerked steadily under my gaze. At the tip was a viscous drop, moving slowly under gravity to the underside of the head. "Like it mom?" He said with malicious laugh. "Good, you are going to be well acquainted with it from now on." Then it was pressed forwards and I pressed my lips together so that it struck my face bluntly. I could feel the warm dampness of that drop upon my chin and resisted the urge to slip my tongue out to taste it. Jake just rose his hand higher and my face seemed to burn harsher from its earlier punishment so I relented. The threat was enough evidently. I had been through this hell before, I knew the punishment was often a pleasure for the punisher and there was nothing the punished could do. I had learned the hard way to just let it happen, that it really never took very long and that there was not as much pain as when I resisted. The thick penis entered my mouth - and I tasted the salt of the pre-cum as well as smell the stale sweat of his balls. My son let out a moan of pleasure at the invasion. I looked up past his hard flat stomach and I could see a wide smile of pleasure on his face. My brother George rarely smiled and just used me, usually with a snarl. However, that was the only thing the two men did not have in common. Like his uncle, Jake liked to use his hands to move my face up and down his hard penis, moving it back and forth within my mouth. I knew enough about this abuse to know to apply the proper amount of suction. If I did not I knew that I would be severely punished. Ever since George, I had not been able to put a male organ in my mouth and not remember the young teenager being orally raped, the humiliation and the fear. Like an addict, I did it frequently with the guys I dated in my later teens, having no self respect about who or what used me. I felt Jake pressing his penis roughly and as deep as he could, recognizing how his uncle used to do the same thing - wanting me to gag, to take it down my throat. So rather than relax my gag-reflex, I stiffened it so that I began to cough and gag as if on cue. Jake laughed evilly yet again and then continued fucking my mouth, not caring to whom it belonged too. Tears rolled down my cheeks, dripping to the top of my dress. No one cared. Is there anyone that can help me? Was there something wrong with me? Did I attract this attention by doing something; some look, or was it some way I spoke to him? Or perhaps I just deserved this? I could feel the pleasure through that penis and knew this rape would end much like the first George had forced upon me, filling my mouth with his seed. The intercourse rapes only started later and just like my mouth, I had no options there either. Then it was happening, the penis straining, enlarging a few millimetres before stiffening, pausing, and then it began to jerk, pumping out its incestuous seed. I swallowed expertly, having sucked many cocks dry since my brother George had been the first. I knew what he wanted, what would help my situation and lesson the pain I allowed a thick drop to ooze out the corner of my lips, sliding down my chin. Laughing - that evil sound that I already knew I would hate for the rest of my life. His hands roughly turned my face back and forth, inspecting my tears, the drop of sperm, the red pain-filled cheeks. He must have liked what he saw, shoving me back onto my hip away from him. Fear seemed to ebb away from me then - something that took years with George. And I slowly eased myself from the floor, smoothing down my calf-length dress even though I had an audience. "Come here mom?" First thing I did was check to see if he was hard again - something that was not uncommon in teenagers, I knew from experience. Thankfully it was not, it was laying across one thigh, still slimy with my saliva and his sperm. Like the good little toy that I was, I stepped towards the edge of the bed and my son. My body trembled and I made the mistake of diagnosing that barely-contained emotion - the shiver had run from my neck down my spin to tickle my anus and then pierce into my sex. I was wet, hot and wet and throbbing - it was the ultimate humiliation. The same thing had happened to me with George, years after the rapes started of course, when I discovered that I enjoyed what was being done to me - that I needed it like breathing. This knowledge, this discovery between my legs, scared me renewed. Jake smirked at me as his hand reached out and grasped me knee - moving quickly up my thigh. I knew where he was going and I felt the shame reheat my cheeks but I did not resist. Rough fumbling around my panty and then his strong digit piercing my flesh, moving easily inside me. Jake's smile became wider and he withdrew his hand from beneath my skirt. I can see the coating of my juice over his index finger, running down into his palm as the hand came towards my face. The finger smeared the familiar nectar over my lips while my son laughed on and on. Have I ever been so humiliated? It may be Jake doing this to me, but it was George that had opened the door. "Come to me after midnight mom and I'll be sure to give your cunt the attention it appears to need." He shoved me with the back of his hand on my thigh. "Now get the fuck out of my room." I had been dismissed as well as been put into my place. This was just the beginning, just like it had been with George. How often had my brother ordered me to attend him at a certain hour - how I used to watch the clock tick towards my own doom, but never once missing the scheduled meeting. I would be back here at midnight just as Jake ordered and I had little doubts that it would not just be my mouth getting used next time. I silently closed the door behind me, breathing in a lungful of air as if it was untainted by the sins within that room. The door just a couple meters down the hallway opens and Jenny steps out, surprised at my appearance - looking me up and down so that I feared her one look would give away the slut I truly was. My hand shot up and I ensured that the drop of sperm on my chin had disappeared. Jenny closes her door and starts down the hallway, like there was nothing odd about her mother coming out red-faced from her brother's room with tears in her eyes and sperm on her chin. She says as she steps by me, "Its better if you just do whatever he says mom." Instinctively I answer, "I know." Our eyes meet and the both of us knew - the both of us understand. My god Jake has been a busy boy. --