Mom's gang rape on the bus

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

"Xiaozhen, don't run so fast, or Mom won't be able to find you."

"Mom, we'll miss our seats if we're late. Hurry, let me help you carry them."

"No need, Mom can carry them."

My plump mother, wearing high heels, followed behind me, panting, carrying two large woven plastic bags. The bags were filled with local specialties that my grandparents and uncles had asked me to bring to relatives in the provincial capital.

It was the summer vacation of 1992. My mother, a middle school English teacher, was taking advantage of her vacation to take me to my parents' home, which was 300 miles away from the provincial capital, for a short stay.

On the day we returned to the provincial capital, the long-distance bus station seemed particularly crowded. The station was small, and there was only one person responsible for maintaining order. My grandparents, who came to see me off, couldn't even squeeze in.

My mother and I, carrying large bags and small packages, stood in line behind many people.

My mother initially didn't want to squeeze in with the crowd and wanted to wait for the next bus, but after inquiring about the time, she learned that the next bus wasn't until 2 PM, meaning a five-hour wait. By then, this bus would have already arrived, so we decided to just get on this one.

The August weather was unbearable; the slight coolness that had managed to accumulate the previous night vanished almost instantly under the blazing sun.

It was only 9 AM, but I already felt a bit sticky, and a few beads of sweat had formed on my mother's forehead and nose. Her light green silk shirt clung tightly to her body, and the white bra peeking out from underneath tightly encased her two high, firm breasts.

Despite this, my mother's impressive breasts bounced up and down as she jogged, and her new high heels, to make matters worse, squeezed her little toes until they hurt a little. She had to shift her weight onto the inside of her feet, unconsciously raising her hips.

As my mother jogged past the long-distance bus, her buttocks half-protruding, breasts swaying, a few pairs of eyes in the last row locked onto her full body beneath her thin clothes, and their groins began to react.

Then most of them swallowed hard; in most cases, they could only swallow dryly at the sight, and then continue doing what they were doing. The beast within their trousers roared silently as it rose, yearning for that warm, sweet spring in their memories, but such a spring mostly existed only in their imaginations.

They were used to soothing their beasts with their rough hands, like pets, and in such circumstances, even a dried-up old well was a rare luxury.

My mother squeezed onto the bus behind me. The bus was already full, but there was no one standing in the aisle; perhaps there were still seats. With this thought in mind, I walked from the front to the back of the bus, looking left and right as if unwilling to let my last glimmer of hope vanish.

Finally, I saw a small gap next to an elderly gentleman in the third-to-last row. I asked my mother to come and sit there, but she looked at it, shook her head, and said, "Zhen, you sit." I thought, was my mother too embarrassed to sit next to the old man?

But when I sat down, I realized the gap was only big enough for half my bottom, let alone my mother's large bottom.

The seemingly kind-looking old man squeezed in a little more so I could sit comfortably.

Passengers kept getting on, and those who arrived later had to stand in the aisle. The driver kept urging everyone to squeeze in, saying the journey would only take a few hours. My mom was initially standing next to me, but she was pushed into the back of the carriage by the people in front of her.

At that point, she started feeling a slight, dull pain in her lower abdomen. She initially thought it was from catching a chill while sleeping the night before, but then she realized the real reason.

Since giving birth to me, my mom has noticed that if she doesn't have sex for a while, she experiences lower abdominal bloating and pain during ovulation, but this symptom disappears once she resumes sexual activity.

My mom saw a Western doctor, who said her hormone levels were unstable, indicating a mild endocrine disorder. The doctor advised her to regulate it mainly through diet and lifestyle, and prescribed an imported birth control pill.

At first, the medication seemed to have some effect; the pain during ovulation subsided. However, once she stopped taking the medication, the symptoms returned. Even more alarming, she noticed her breasts seemed more sensitive than before, her nipples enlarged, and she frequently experienced milk leakage during intercourse, which embarrassed her greatly.

When my mother told my father about this, he seemed completely unconcerned. When he was happy, he would say it was good to have milk; when he was impatient, he would say, "I told you not to take random medications, but you wouldn't listen." However, my father still didn't like using condoms, so my mother continued to take the medication weekly when she was at home.

Their sex life took an additional turn: after each sexual encounter, my father would suckle all the milk from my mother's breasts.

My mom hadn't had sex for two weeks, and she hadn't brought any birth control pills. It wasn't until she started experiencing lower abdominal pain that she realized it was probably her ovulation day. No wonder she found clear, blood-tinged discharge in her pants when she woke up this morning.

With just over four hours until they got home, my mom thought she'd definitely ask my dad to "treat" her when they arrived. So far, sex was still the most effective treatment, though she reminded herself to take her medication beforehand. The thought of "treatment" made my mom a little distracted.

While she was thinking about all this, she was completely unaware that twelve eyes were greedily staring at her round buttocks behind her.

They weren't originally traveling together; they were just ordinary travelers heading out. But after being separated from their families for so long, each of them harbored a restless beast within their crotches.

The cramped space inside the car brought people as close as possible to each other. My mother's tight, elastic black dress clung to her full hips, and the nearest person was less than a foot from the nose—even raising an arm could result in an accidental touch. The men's wild desires fermented in the faint scent of sweat on my mother's body.

I don't know when the car started moving, but a few miles out of the county town, we entered a bumpy mountain road. The bus, full of passengers, swayed constantly from side to side, and my mother had to struggle to maintain her balance.

Despite this, before reaching an uphill slope, a sudden acceleration startled my mother, causing her to slump onto the person behind her. To make matters worse, she felt something hard pressing against her crotch.

My mother struggled to stand up, and at that moment, I turned around. My mother felt a pair of hands behind her supporting her waist and pushing her up, as if they had touched her buttocks. Everything happened so fast that it was over before she could even think. My mother was both ashamed and annoyed, but she couldn't react, and she dared not look back.

The man behind my mother touched his crotch, savoring the wonderful feeling of that moment: a soft buttock pressed against his thighs, his penis pressing against the woman's private parts. That was the spring he had been longing for.

He regretted helping the slut up so quickly; although he had groped her buttocks in the chaos, that was all. She had been fine before, but this sitting, this helping, this touching—the small flame in his lower abdomen instantly turned into a raging fire. They

still had several hours to go to the provincial capital, and even then, he wouldn't find a place to vent his desires. He only had his last 20 yuan in his pocket, and he needed to eat before finding work.

The person to his left nudged him. When he boarded the bus, he glanced at the guy with the long scar above his eyebrow and didn't dare look again.

Who wouldn't want to avoid trouble when traveling? Sitting next to him was already incredibly uncomfortable, but there were no other seats available.

He turned to look at the person on his left. The person was holding a sharp blade and looking at him with a half-smile, a strange light gleaming in their eyes. He looked at the person on his left with confusion, not knowing what they meant, and then finally realized that they wanted to switch seats.

"Fine, let's change it. Why use a razor blade?" he thought to himself, not daring to ask. He stood up to let the person on his left move aside, feeling his erection pressing against the woman's soft buttocks. My mother felt it too, but she didn't move because she had no room to move forward. Fortunately, the person behind her sat down quickly.

My mother breathed a sigh of relief, but felt a burning sensation in her lower body. She tried not to think about it, but it became increasingly uncomfortable, and there seemed to be some sticky discharge from her vagina, making it itchy.

Just then, a thick arm draped over my mother's right shoulder, and a large hand simultaneously covered her mouth. A deep, menacing voice rang in her ear: "Don't shout!"

My mother froze, feeling a chill before her eyes. She then saw the gleaming blade less than two inches from her face. The man behind her said something else, but my mother didn't hear a word, only the last sentence, "Understand?" She nodded hastily, glancing at me sitting to her left, where I was dozing with my head down.

My mother subconsciously looked at my sunburnt neck, realizing she was dozing off. For some reason, her lower body felt increasingly hot. She still dared not look back.

My mother felt a pair of hands greedily groping her waist and genitals. The zipper of her skirt was pulled open, and she suddenly remembered that she inexplicably had worn a pink thong that day. What my mother didn't know was that during her ovulation period after two weeks of abstinence, she subconsciously desired intercourse.

What she was about to experience, biologically speaking, was perhaps the inevitable result of this subconscious desire; after all, the sexual behavior of most animals looks like rape. To put it bluntly and crudely, my mother was a very horny and slutty woman that day, so what happened to her wasn't surprising at all; in fact, it was exactly what she deserved.

My mother knew her thong was exposed, and she was so ashamed and scared she wanted to scream, but she held back. A few buttons at the waist were undone, and the skirt slipped down to her ankles.

The people in the last row stared at my mother's almost naked, full buttocks and thighs, swallowing hard. Their burning gazes made my mother shift uncomfortably, which only intensified the intensity of their stares.

No man other than my father had ever looked at her naked body so closely, let alone six men. My mother trembled at the thought of what was about to happen, but seeing me sitting in front of her, she knew she had no choice but to comply. The man who was about to violate her stood behind my mother, his hands roaming over her large, white, fleshy buttocks.

For a moment, she calmed down, thinking that if she could delay the inevitable, perhaps a miracle would happen and help her escape her predicament. Thinking this, my mother squeezed her legs together, hoping to make it less easy for the man behind her to remove the last barrier protecting her lower body. As she squeezed her legs together, her skirt slipped down to her ankles, but my mother didn't care about the skirt now.

She absolutely didn't want anyone to see her like this, but luckily she had two large woven bags in her hands, which she could use to cover her half-naked lower body.

Women's so-called rationality is generally quite limited, and as it turned out, my mother's attempt to clench her legs was futile. The man behind her didn't intend to remove it properly; instead, he reached down to my mother's waist, where the thong was just a narrow strip.

The man lifted the thong to my mother's left waist, and it snapped in two with a sharp edge. Then came the right side. My mother, holding the woven bag that covered her naked lower body with both hands, couldn't stop him and dared not stop him. The thong instantly became a strangely shaped strip of cloth between my mother's legs, leaving her completely naked.

The man stood behind my mother, unzipped his pants, and his engorged penis eagerly sprang out, as if he had caught a whiff of my mother's genitals in the air and suddenly became aroused.

This man clearly had phimosis; his erection couldn't conceal the fact. His right hand caressed my mother's smooth buttocks, while his left hand pulled back the foreskin to reveal a dark red glans. The foreskin was still damp, covered in black smegma, and a pungent odor of urine instantly filled the air around his penis, causing those sitting in the back row to fan the air with their hands.

My mother felt a hand reach under her crotch to support her plump mons pubis, while another hand pressed against her back. One hand pulled backward while the other pushed forward, forcing her upper body forward and her buttocks sticking out. My mother's perineum was exposed between her bare thighs as she arched her back.

This was the most alluring and secret part of my mother's body; even my father had never seen her in such a seductive pose. The man then placed his hand between my mother's thighs, gesturing for her to spread her legs wider and stick her buttocks out even higher. My mother obediently complied.

From the front, my mother appeared normal except for a slightly flushed face and a slight forward lean. Of course, if it weren't so crowded, a careful observer could see her skirt and thong on the ground. From behind, my mother was completely naked from the waist down, her legs spread at a 45-degree angle, her most beautiful parts completely exposed. Her anus was faintly visible between her legs, and below it was her relatively darker perineum, with plump flesh embracing the entrance to her vagina.

My mother's vaginal opening faced diagonally downwards and rearwards, opening and closing slightly with the rhythm of her rapid breathing, captivating all who watched.

During sexual intercourse, the timing of genital insertion is usually entirely controlled by the man, making this pre-insertion moment the most difficult for women, especially in forced sexual acts. My mother, a mature woman, knew her genitals were about to be penetrated by a man's penis, so her cervix dilated and her vagina began to moisten, ready to receive penetration at any moment.

When the expected penetration didn't occur, my mother felt like she was being scratched by a cat, completely confused. Just as she was at a loss, something quickly entered her vagina, causing her to gasp involuntarily—it had finally happened. However, the expected feeling of fullness in her vagina did not appear, despite the natural contraction of her vagina.

The man withdrew his right middle finger, which had been tightly gripped by my mother's vagina, and it was already wet with a clear, sticky fluid. He licked his finger with satisfaction; my mother's reaction was stronger than he had expected. Because of his phimosis, he usually needed to lubricate thoroughly before penetration, otherwise it would hurt. Now, it seemed my mother's vagina was fully ready.

He brought his glans to the entrance of my mother's vagina and slowly slid it into her warm, moist body. The smell of urine around his genitals disappeared instantly. Although she was mentally and physically prepared, the first time a man other than her husband penetrated her still left my mother feeling overwhelmed.

It was a completely different sensation. The man's penis wasn't particularly large, but being raped in such a public place by a man other than her husband, with her son nearby, was incredibly overwhelming. The extreme fear and shame combined to create a strange, unprecedented excitement in my mother's body. She felt tremors in her vagina and cervix, unable to explain the continuous flow of fluid from her genitals.

My mother had never had sex before marriage, and in ten years of married life, she had never experienced anything like this. It was unimaginable that her vaginal fluids would be opened today on a long-distance bus by an uninvited guest who threatened and humiliated her.

What terrified my mother equally was that she felt a burning sensation spread from the friction against her vaginal walls, filling her lower abdomen, then rising up until it reached her breasts. She felt a throbbing pain in her breasts, her nipples pressed tightly against the fabric of her bra, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Just as she struggled on the verge of suffocation, she felt a large hand caressing her breasts through her bra, and then she felt the pressure on her breasts ease, revealing that a razor blade had cut between the two cups of her bra.

My mother then realized that the bottom two buttons of her shirt were undone, and the man's hand was inside her shirt.

But she didn't resist at all, not even for a moment, letting her bra be slashed to pieces by the sharp blade, broken in two and pulled out from the neckline. The man continued thrusting his hips while casually tossing my mother's two breasts to a few people in the back row, who grabbed them and sniffed them like precious treasures.

At this moment, my mother's worst fears came true. Hearing my mother's heavy breathing, I turned to see what was happening. I noticed my mother's posture was strange; her legs were spread apart, her upper body leaning forward, like a horse stance. Her clothes also looked odd. I couldn't figure out why, but something felt different than usual, something was wrong.

"Mom, are you tired?"

"...No, no...Xiaozhen, sit still, don't look around."

"Mom, why don't you come and sit for a while?"

"No!! Don't come over! Xiaozhen, listen to your mother, sit still."

I noticed my mother was very nervous when I stood up to let her sit, which I found strange.

"Mom, how about I help you get your things? It must be tiring for you to stand and carry things."

"No!!! Didn't I tell you not to come over? I'm carrying them perfectly well, turn your head away!"

I was puzzled as to why my mother suddenly got angry. At that moment, I saw a man standing behind my mother. This man had a fierce face. There was clearly a seat behind him, but he didn't sit down and insisted on standing right next to my mother.

Just then, my eyes met his, and he glared at me fiercely. Despite it being the middle of summer, I still shivered.

At that moment, the older man next to me grabbed my shoulder and said, "Don't look, good boy, listen to your mother."

I turned away, full of suspicion, but dared not look back again, so I pretended to be dozing off in the back of the seat in front of me, occasionally glancing back out of the corner of my eye.

When the man saw that I had finally turned my head away and wouldn't look back, he put away the blade he had been holding to my mother's neck, put his arm around her waist from behind, and reached his right hand down to her crotch to rub her clitoris and labia, while his left hand reached inside her clothes to pinch her breasts and nipples.

My mother's body, which had been slowly cooling down after the shock, was aroused again. Although she kept cursing herself in her heart as a shameless slut, the response of her genitals was not under the control of her brain.

The man could clearly feel the clamping of my mother's genitals, the tip of his glans feeling the suction of the vaginal muscles, and the warm vaginal flesh squeezing the frenulum of his glans. With each insertion and withdrawal, his glans had to part my mother's vagina, which had become tight due to sexual arousal. The special shape of the coronal sulcus of his glans was like a pump, and with each withdrawal, it brought the milky white viscous fluid that had seeped out from the depths of the vagina to the shallow part of the vagina, so much so that the base of his pubic hair and the pubic hair were covered with my mother's vaginal secretions.

My mother felt her vagina tightening, the sensation of her vaginal cavity being stretched intensified with the increased speed of thrusting. Her uterus began to contract, and at that moment, a gush of heat spurted from the urethral opening at the tip of the glans. The penis no longer retracted but twitched up and down within the limited space of the vagina, spraying thick streams of semen into my mother's vagina.

Because she hadn't taken birth control pills and was ovulating, the environment inside my mother's vagina was quite suitable for sperm. Therefore, hundreds of millions of sperm in the semen vigorously swam their tails towards the depths of the uterus and fallopian tubes, seeking an opportunity to fertilize the egg.

My mother seemed to realize the seriousness of the situation at this point. She pulled her buttocks forward, and with a "plop," the glans slid out of her vagina. But it was too late; ejaculation was complete. The penis, having fulfilled its seed-planting task, began to soften, with only a drop of milky white semen remaining near the urethral opening. The

men who had been watching for a while were also starting to get restless, their own genitals throbbing. Each of them had a seed-planting machine in their crotches, and my mother's fertile ground was ready for planting. Who says men don't think with their lower bodies? At this moment, the other five men sitting in the back row were completely controlled by their own desires.

From the moment my mother's lower body was stripped naked and she was forced to bend over, exposing her genitals, all five pairs of testicles began working overtime to deliver sperm into her epididymis.

For the reproductive organs of the men in the last row, the orgy had just begun. They started changing seats, and whoever's turn it was moved to the seat behind my mother.

They didn't sit down, but instead pressed themselves tightly against my mother from behind, forcing her to bend over, and penetrating her from behind, rampaging and ravaging her vaginal cavity.

After the initial arousal subsided, my mother felt a churning, bloated pain in her lower abdomen. She knew this was the result of excessive sexual activity causing vaginal swelling and congestion, but she was powerless against the continuous thrusting.

Each man's penetration lasted about ten minutes from insertion to ejaculation, involving hundreds of thrusts. The only breaks were a few dozen seconds when people changed seats, and even those few dozen seconds were later greatly shortened because the next man was already waiting in the empty seat behind my mother, the seat that should have belonged to the man raping her.

After all six men had ejaculated inside my mother, the pace of the rotation slowed considerably because everyone's stamina had increased. The first round took only about thirty-five minutes, but the second round doubled, taking seventy minutes, and the journey was only halfway complete.

Billions of sperm swam in my mother's uterus and fallopian tubes. They could survive for three days in a suitable environment, but only one sperm would eventually fertilize an egg, producing an illegitimate child. The rest would be absorbed by the uterine wall, becoming an indelible stain on her body.

From the third round onwards, my mother began to feel weak and unsteady, unable to stand. Her vagina was severely swollen and red from continuous intercourse, and the mucous membrane of her vaginal walls had turned from pink to bright red. Blood would occasionally trickle from her penis when it was withdrawn.

Men blinded by lust have no compassion for other men's wives and mothers. They allowed my mother to sit on the lap of the man who raped her, his erect penis penetrating her vagina. They then lifted my mother's naked buttocks and wiggled her back and forth, enjoying her vagina, which was especially tight due to its swollen state.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my mother sitting on someone's lap, moving up and down repeatedly. At the time, I couldn't understand it at all.

At first, intercourse was lubricated by my mother's vaginal secretions. Later, due to frequent intercourse, the secretions became insufficient, and it gradually became lubricated by semen. As the intervals between ejaculations lengthened and the amount of semen decreased, they resorted to having one of them take turns standing in my mother's original position to block her view. My mother would then turn around, unbutton all the buttons on the front of her shirt, and kneel on the man's lap in an extremely lewd posture, her private parts exposed. She would use her genitals to cover his penis while offering her breasts for him to play with.

During the sucking of her breasts, they quickly discovered that my mother's breasts were actually secreting milk, which greatly surprised and delighted them. This arrangement initially did indeed accelerate my mother's vaginal lubrication due to the stimulation of shame.

Finally, in the fourth round, the man who had initially raped my mother came up with a new trick. When he felt my mother's vagina was too dry, he made her kneel on the ground and perform oral sex on him. This served two purposes: lubricating his penis with saliva and increasing my mother's shame, thus accelerating vaginal lubrication.

This trick was indeed effective. When my mother got up from the ground and straddled his penis again, it penetrated almost entirely without effort. The others then followed suit.

As the bus traveled through the streets of the provincial capital, my mother was still straddling the lap of the last man. Although her breasts had long been emptied, he was still persistently sucking on her nipples.

The drivers of the cars behind and next to us stared in disbelief as they saw my naked mother swaying her large breasts as she rode on a man's body.

The moment the long-distance bus pulled into the station, my mother finally got off the man. In her haste, she buttoned up her shirt, not having time to find a skirt, and returned to her standing position, naked from the waist down.

She told me to get off first and wait for her underneath. She waited until I was off before finally managing to find her skirt on the ground. The remains of her bra and thong had been taken away by the men who had gang-raped her as souvenirs. Before getting off, they all kissed my mother's bare buttocks.

My mother limped off the bus, her nipples clearly visible through her semi-transparent shirt, and people around her stared. My mother said she couldn't walk anymore because she had been standing for so long, so we took a taxi home.

I don't remember what happened after that, only that my mother subtly asked me if I saw anything on the bus that day. I lied and said I didn't see anything, and she didn't say anything more.

Later, my mother found out she was pregnant. In June 1993, I had a younger sister. To avoid the control of the family planning department, my mother took a year of sick leave and went back to her hometown to give birth.

I didn't fully understand until I was 16 that my mother had been gang-raped by those men, and my sister was the product of that gang rape. My father, on the other hand, knew nothing and was kept in the dark the whole time.

[The End]

"Xiaozhen, don't run so fast, or Mom won't be able to find you."

"Mom, we won't have any seats if we're late. Hurry, let me help you carry them."

"No need, Mom can carry them."

My plump mother, wearing high heels, was carrying two large plastic woven bags, panting as she followed behind me. The woven bags were filled with local specialties that my grandparents and uncles had asked me to bring to relatives in the provincial capital.

This was during the summer vacation of 1992. My mother, a middle school English teacher, took me to stay at her parents' home, which was 300 miles away from the provincial capital, during her vacation.

On the day we returned to the provincial capital, the long-distance bus station seemed unusually crowded. The station was small, and there was only one person maintaining order; even my grandparents who came to see us off couldn't squeeze in.

My mother and I, carrying large bags, stood behind many people in line.

My mother initially didn't want to squeeze in and wanted to wait for the next bus, but after inquiring about the time, she learned that the next bus wasn't until 2 PM, meaning a five-hour wait. By then, this bus would have already arrived, so we decided to just get on this one.

The August weather was terrible; the slight coolness that had managed to accumulate the previous night vanished almost instantly under the blazing sun.

It was only nine in the morning, but I already felt a little sticky. My mother had beads of sweat on her forehead and nose, and her light green silk shirt clung to her body, revealing a white bra that tightly hugged her two high, firm breasts.

Even so, my mother's proud breasts bounced up and down as she jogged, and her new high heels were making things difficult for her at this time, squeezing her little toes until they hurt a little. She had to put her weight on the inside of her feet, and without realizing it, she raised her hips higher.

As my mother, her buttocks half-protruding, breasts swaying, jogging past the long-distance bus, several pairs of eyes in the last row locked onto her full body beneath her thin clothes, and their groins began to react.

Most of them then swallowed hard; in most cases, they could only swallow dryly at the sight before continuing what they were doing. The beasts within their trousers silently roared and rose, yearning for that warm, sweet spring of memory, but such a spring, in most cases, only existed in their imaginations.

They were used to soothing their wild animals with their rough hands, like pets; in such circumstances, even a dried-up old well was a rare luxury.

My mother squeezed onto the bus behind me. The bus was already full, but no one was standing in the aisle—maybe there were still seats. With this thought in mind, I walked from the front to the back of the bus, looking left and right, unwilling to let my last glimmer of hope vanish.

Finally, I saw a small gap next to an elderly man in the third-to-last row. I offered my mother the seat, but she looked at it, shook her head, and said, "Zhen, you sit." I wondered if my mother was too embarrassed to sit next to the elderly man?

When I sat down, I realized the space was only big enough for half my bottom, let alone my mother's large bottom.

The seemingly kind-looking old man squeezed in a little so I could sit comfortably.

Passengers kept getting on, and those who arrived later had to stand in the aisle. The driver kept urging everyone to squeeze in, saying it would only take a few hours. My mother had initially stood next to me, but was later pushed to the very back of the carriage by the people in front.

At this point, my mother started to feel a slight, dull pain in her lower abdomen. She initially thought it was from catching a chill while sleeping the night before, but then she realized the real reason.

Since giving birth to me, my mother has noticed that if she doesn't have sex for a period of time, she experiences lower abdominal pain during ovulation. This symptom disappears once she resumes sexual activity.

My mother saw a Western doctor who said her hormone levels were unstable, indicating a mild endocrine disorder. The doctor advised her to regulate it through diet and lifestyle, and prescribed an imported birth control pill.

Initially, the medication seemed to work; the pain during ovulation subsided. However, once she stopped taking the medication, the symptoms returned. Even more alarming, she found that her breasts seemed more sensitive than before, her nipples enlarged, and she often experienced milk leakage during intercourse, which made her very embarrassed.

When my mom told my dad all this, he didn't seem to care at all. When he was happy, he'd say it was good to have milk; when he was impatient, he'd say, "I told you not to take medicine randomly, but you wouldn't listen." However, my dad still didn't like using condoms, so my mom continued to take her medication every week when she was home.

Their sex life had taken an extra step: after each sexual encounter, my dad would suckle all the milk from my mom's breasts.

This time, they hadn't had sex for two weeks, and my mom hadn't brought any birth control pills. It wasn't until she started experiencing lower abdominal pain that she realized it was probably her ovulation period. No wonder she found clear, blood-tinged discharge in her underwear when she woke up this morning.

With just over four hours until they got home, my mom thought she would definitely ask my dad to treat her when they arrived. So far, sex is still the most effective treatment, though she reminded herself to take her medication before starting. The thought of "treatment" made my mother's mind wander.

While she was thinking these things, she was completely unaware that twelve eyes were greedily staring at her round buttocks behind her.

They weren't originally a couple, just ordinary people going out, but after a long separation from their families, each of them harbored a restless beast within their trousers.

The cramped interior of the car minimized the distance between people. My mother's shapely black dress clung tightly to her full hips; the nearest person was less than a foot from the nose, and even raising an arm could result in a near miss. A man's primal desire fermented amidst the faint scent of sweat emanating from my mother.

I don't know when the car started moving, but a few miles out of the county town, we entered a bumpy mountain road. The bus, packed with passengers, swayed violently from side to side, and my mother had to struggle to maintain her balance.

Even so, before reaching an uphill section, a sudden acceleration startled my mother, causing her to slump onto the person behind her. To make matters worse, she felt something hard between her legs.

My mother struggled to stand up, and at that moment, I turned around. My mother felt a pair of hands supporting her waist and pushing her up, and it felt like they even groped her buttocks. Everything happened so fast; it was over before she could even think. My mother was both ashamed and embarrassed, but she couldn't react, and she dared not look back.

The man behind my mother touched his crotch, savoring the wonderful feeling of that fleeting moment: a soft, yielding buttock pressed against his thigh, his manhood pressing against the slut's...that place. That was the sweet spring he had longed for.

He regretted helping the slut up so quickly; although he had managed to touch her buttocks in the chaos, nothing more. Everything had been fine before, but with that sitting, that helping, that touching, the small flame in his lower abdomen instantly turned into a raging fire. They

still had several hours to go to the provincial capital, and even there, he wouldn't find a place to relieve himself. He only had 20 yuan left in his pocket, and he needed to eat before finding work.

The man on his left nudged him. He glanced at the man with the long scar above his eyebrow as he boarded the bus and then avoided looking again.

Who wouldn't want to avoid trouble when going out? Sitting next to him was already incredibly uncomfortable, but there were no other seats available.

He turned to look at the person to his left, who held a sharp razor blade, looking at him with a strange, ambiguous smile and a glint in his eyes. He looked at the person to his left, puzzled, unsure of their intentions, before finally realizing they wanted to switch seats. "

Fine, switch then, but why the razor blade?" he thought, not daring to ask. He stood up to let the person to his left move, feeling his erection pressing against a woman's soft buttocks. My mother felt it too, but she didn't move, because she had no room to move forward. Fortunately, the person behind her quickly sat down.

My mother let out a sigh of relief, but felt a burning sensation in her lower body. She tried not to think about it, but the discomfort only intensified. There seemed to be more mucus seeping from her vagina, and it felt itchy.

Just then, a thick arm draped over my mother's right shoulder, and a large hand covered her mouth. At the same time, a deep but vicious voice rang in her ear: "Don't shout!"

My mother was stunned, feeling a chill before her eyes. She then saw the gleaming blade less than two inches in front of her face. The man behind her said something else, but my mother didn't hear anything. She only heard the last sentence, "Understand?" She nodded quickly and glanced at me sitting to her left. At that moment, I was dozing off with my head down.

My mother glanced subconsciously at my sunburnt neck, realizing she was doomed. For some reason, her genitals felt increasingly hot. She still didn't dare look back. She

felt a pair of hands greedily exploring her waist and genitals; the zipper of her skirt was pulled open, and she suddenly remembered that she had inexplicably worn a pink thong that day. What my mother didn't know was that during her ovulation period after two weeks of abstinence, she subconsciously desired intercourse.

What she was about to experience, biologically speaking, was perhaps the inevitable result of this subconscious desire—after all, the sexual behavior of most animals looks like rape. To put it bluntly and crudely, my mother was an incredibly slutty and wanton woman that day. What happened to her that day wasn't surprising at all; in fact, it was exactly what she deserved.

My mother knew her thong was exposed, and she was so ashamed and scared she wanted to scream, but she held back. A few buttons at the waistband were undone, and then the waistband loosened, and the skirt slipped down to her ankles.

The people in the last row of seats stared at my mother's almost naked, full buttocks and thighs, swallowing hard. Their burning gazes made my mother very uncomfortable, twisting her body, which only intensified the intensity of their stares.

Aside from my father, no other man had ever looked at her naked body so closely, let alone six men. My mother trembled at the thought of what was about to happen, but seeing me sitting in front of her, she knew she had no choice but to comply. The man who was about to violate her stood behind my mother, his hands roaming over her large, white, fleshy buttocks.

For a moment, she calmed down, thinking that if she could delay it as much as possible, perhaps a miracle would happen and help her escape this predicament. Thinking this, my mother squeezed her legs together, wanting the man behind her to at least not so easily remove the last barrier of her lower body. As she squeezed her legs together, her skirt slipped down to her heels, but my mother didn't care about her skirt now.

She desperately didn't want anyone to see her like this, but luckily she had two large woven bags to cover her half-naked lower body.

A woman's so-called rationality is generally quite limited, and it turned out my mother's attempts to clench her legs were futile. The man behind her didn't intend to properly remove it; instead, he reached down to my mother's waist, where the thong was just a narrow strip.

The man lifted the thong from my mother's left waist, severing it with a sharp crack where the blade passed. Then he cut the right side. My mother, clutching the woven bag covering her naked genitals, was powerless and dared not stop him. The thong instantly became a strangely shaped strip of cloth tucked between my mother's legs, leaving her completely naked.

The man stood behind my mother, unzipped the zipper, and his engorged penis eagerly sprang out, as if invigorated by the scent of my mother's genitals in the air.

The man clearly had phimosis; his erection couldn't conceal the fact. His right hand caressed my mother's smooth buttocks, while his left hand pulled back the foreskin, revealing a dark red glans. The foreskin was still damp, covered in black smegma. A strong stench of urine instantly filled the air around his genitals, causing those sitting in the back row to fan the air.

My mother felt one hand reach under her crotch to support her thick mons pubis, while the other pressed against her back. One hand pulled backward, the other pushed forward, forcing her upper body forward and her buttocks to stick out. My mother's perineum was exposed between her bare thighs as she arched her back.

This was the most alluring and secret place on my mother's body. Even my father had never seen my mother in such a seductive pose. The man put his hand between my mother's legs and gestured for her to spread her legs wider and stick her butt out higher. My mother obediently did as he was told.

From the front, my mother appeared normal except for a slightly flushed face and a slight forward lean. Of course, if it weren't so crowded, a careful observer could see her skirt and thong on the ground. From behind, my mother was completely naked from the waist down, her legs spread at a 45-degree angle, her most beautiful parts completely exposed. Her anus was faintly visible between her legs, and below it was her relatively darker perineum, with plump flesh embracing the entrance to her vagina.

My mother's vaginal opening faced diagonally downwards and rearwards, opening and closing slightly with the rhythm of her rapid breathing, captivating all who watched.

During sexual intercourse, the timing of genital insertion is usually entirely controlled by the man, making this pre-insertion moment the most difficult for women, especially in forced sexual acts. My mother, a mature woman, knew her genitals were about to be penetrated by a man's penis, so her cervix dilated and her vagina began to moisten, ready to receive penetration at any moment.

When the expected penetration didn't occur, my mother felt like she was being scratched by a cat, completely confused. Just as she was at a loss, something quickly entered her vagina, causing her to gasp involuntarily—it had finally happened. However, the expected feeling of fullness in her vagina did not appear, despite the natural contraction of her vagina.

The man withdrew his right middle finger, which had been tightly gripped by my mother's vagina, and it was already wet with a clear, sticky fluid. He licked his finger with satisfaction; my mother's reaction was stronger than he had expected. Because of his phimosis, he usually needed to lubricate thoroughly before penetration, otherwise it would hurt. Now it seemed that my mother's vagina was fully ready.

He brought his glans to the entrance of my mother's vagina and slowly slid it into her warm, moist body. The smell of urine around his genitals disappeared instantly. Although she was fully prepared mentally and physically, the first time a man other than her husband penetrated her still left my mother feeling lost and overwhelmed.

This was a completely different sensation. The man's penis wasn't particularly large, but to be raped in such a public place by a man other than her husband, with her son nearby, was incredibly overwhelming. The extreme fear and shame combined to create a strange excitement my mother had never experienced before. She felt tremors in her vagina and cervix, unable to explain the continuous flow of fluid from her lower body.

My mother had never had sex before marriage, and in ten years of married life, she had never felt anything like this. It was unimaginable that her vaginal fluids would be opened today on a long-distance bus for an uninvited guest who threatened and humiliated her.

What terrified my mother equally was that she felt a burning sensation spread from the friction against her vaginal walls, filling her lower abdomen, then rising up until it reached her breasts. She felt a throbbing pain in her breasts, her nipples pressed tightly against the fabric of her bra, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Just as she struggled on the verge of suffocation, she felt a large hand caressing her breasts through her bra, and then she felt the pressure on her breasts ease, revealing that a razor blade had cut between the two cups of her bra.

My mother then realized that the bottom two buttons of her shirt were undone, and the man's hand was inside her shirt.

But she didn't resist at all, not even for a moment, letting her bra be slashed to pieces by the sharp blade, broken in two and pulled out from the neckline. The man continued thrusting his hips while casually tossing my mother's two breasts to a few people in the back row, who grabbed them and sniffed them like precious treasures.

At this moment, my mother's worst fears came true. Hearing my mother's heavy breathing, I turned to see what was happening. I noticed my mother's posture was strange; her legs were spread apart, her upper body leaning forward, like a horse stance. Her clothes also looked odd. I couldn't figure out why, but something felt different than usual, something was wrong.

"Mom, are you tired?"

"...No, no...Xiaozhen, sit still, don't look around."

"Mom, why don't you come and sit for a while?"

"No!! Don't come over! Xiaozhen, listen to your mother, sit still."

I noticed my mother was very nervous when I stood up to let her sit, which I found strange.

"Mom, how about I help you get your things? It must be tiring for you to stand and carry things."

"No!!! Didn't I tell you not to come over? I'm carrying them perfectly well, turn your head away!"

I was puzzled as to why my mother suddenly got angry. At that moment, I saw a man standing behind my mother. This man had a fierce face. There was clearly a seat behind him, but he didn't sit down and insisted on standing right next to my mother.

Just then, my eyes met his, and he glared at me fiercely. Despite it being the middle of summer, I still shivered.

At that moment, the older man next to me grabbed my shoulder and said, "Don't look, good boy, listen to your mother."

I turned away, full of suspicion, but dared not look back again, so I pretended to be dozing off in the back of the seat in front of me, occasionally glancing back out of the corner of my eye.

When the man saw that I had finally turned my head away and wouldn't look back, he put away the blade he had been holding to my mother's neck, put his arm around her waist from behind, and reached his right hand down to her crotch to rub her clitoris and labia, while his left hand reached inside her clothes to pinch her breasts and nipples.

My mother's body, which had been slowly cooling down after the shock, was aroused again. Although she kept cursing herself in her heart as a shameless slut, the response of her genitals was not under the control of her brain.

The man could clearly feel the clamping of my mother's genitals, the tip of his glans feeling the suction of the vaginal muscles, and the warm vaginal flesh squeezing the frenulum of his glans. With each insertion and withdrawal, his glans had to part my mother's vagina, which had become tight due to sexual arousal. The special shape of the coronal sulcus of his glans was like a pump, and with each withdrawal, it brought the milky white viscous fluid that had seeped out from the depths of the vagina to the shallow part of the vagina, so much so that the base of his pubic hair and the pubic hair were covered with my mother's vaginal secretions.

My mother felt her vagina tightening, the sensation of her vaginal cavity being stretched intensified with the increased speed of thrusting. Her uterus began to contract, and at that moment, a gush of heat spurted from the urethral opening at the tip of the glans. The penis no longer retracted but twitched up and down within the limited space of the vagina, spraying thick streams of semen into my mother's vagina.

Because she hadn't taken birth control pills and was ovulating, the environment inside my mother's vagina was quite suitable for sperm. Therefore, hundreds of millions of sperm in the semen vigorously swam their tails towards the depths of the uterus and fallopian tubes, seeking an opportunity to fertilize the egg.

My mother seemed to realize the seriousness of the situation at this point. She pulled her buttocks forward, and with a "plop," the glans slid out of her vagina. But it was too late; ejaculation was complete. The penis, having fulfilled its seed-planting task, began to soften, with only a drop of milky white semen remaining near the urethral opening. The

men who had been watching for a while were also starting to get restless, their own genitals throbbing. Each of them had a seed-planting machine in their crotches, and my mother's fertile ground was ready for planting. Who says men don't think with their lower bodies? At this moment, the other five men sitting in the back row were completely controlled by their own desires.

From the moment my mother's lower body was stripped naked and she was forced to bend over, exposing her genitals, all five pairs of testicles began working overtime to deliver sperm into her epididymis.

For the reproductive organs of the men in the last row, the orgy had just begun. They started changing seats, and whoever's turn it was moved to the seat behind my mother.

They didn't sit down, but instead pressed themselves tightly against my mother from behind, forcing her to bend over, and penetrating her from behind, rampaging and ravaging her vaginal cavity.

After the initial arousal subsided, my mother felt a churning, bloated pain in her lower abdomen. She knew this was the result of excessive sexual activity causing vaginal swelling and congestion, but she was powerless against the continuous thrusting.

Each man's penetration lasted about ten minutes from insertion to ejaculation, involving hundreds of thrusts. The only breaks were a few dozen seconds when people changed seats, and even those few dozen seconds were later greatly shortened because the next man was already waiting in the empty seat behind my mother, the seat that should have belonged to the man raping her.

After all six men had ejaculated inside my mother, the pace of the rotation slowed considerably because everyone's stamina had increased. The first round took only about thirty-five minutes, but the second round doubled, taking seventy minutes, and the journey was only halfway complete.

Billions of sperm swam in my mother's uterus and fallopian tubes. They could survive for three days in a suitable environment, but only one sperm would eventually fertilize an egg, producing an illegitimate child. The rest would be absorbed by the uterine wall, becoming an indelible stain on her body.

From the third round onwards, my mother began to feel weak and unsteady, unable to stand. Her vagina was severely swollen and red from continuous intercourse, and the mucous membrane of her vaginal walls had turned from pink to bright red. Blood would occasionally trickle from her penis when it was withdrawn.

Men blinded by lust have no compassion for other men's wives and mothers. They allowed my mother to sit on the lap of the man who raped her, his erect penis penetrating her vagina. They then lifted my mother's naked buttocks and wiggled her back and forth, enjoying her vagina, which was especially tight due to its swollen state.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my mother sitting on someone's lap, moving up and down repeatedly. At the time, I couldn't understand it at all.

At first, intercourse was lubricated by my mother's vaginal secretions. Later, due to frequent intercourse, the secretions became insufficient, and it gradually became lubricated by semen. As the intervals between ejaculations lengthened and the amount of semen decreased, they resorted to having one of them take turns standing in my mother's original position to block her view. My mother would then turn around, unbutton all the buttons on the front of her shirt, and kneel on the man's lap in an extremely lewd posture, her private parts exposed. She would use her genitals to cover his penis while offering her breasts for him to play with.

During the sucking of her breasts, they quickly discovered that my mother's breasts were actually secreting milk, which greatly surprised and delighted them. This arrangement initially did indeed accelerate my mother's vaginal lubrication due to the stimulation of shame.

Finally, in the fourth round, the man who had initially raped my mother came up with a new trick. When he felt my mother's vagina was too dry, he made her kneel on the ground and perform oral sex on him. This served two purposes: lubricating his penis with saliva and increasing my mother's shame, thus accelerating vaginal lubrication.

This trick was indeed effective. When my mother got up from the ground and straddled his penis again, it penetrated almost entirely without effort. The others then followed suit.

As the long-distance bus traveled through the streets of the provincial capital, my mother was still straddling the lap of the last man. Although her breasts had long been emptied, he was still persistently sucking on her nipples.

The drivers of the cars behind and next to her, seeing my naked mother swaying her large breasts as she was being ravaged by a man through their windows, were stunned.

The moment the bus pulled into the station, my mother finally got off the man, hurriedly buttoning up her shirt. Not having time to find a skirt, she had to return to a standing position, naked from the waist down.

My mother told me to get off first and wait for her below the bus. She waited until I got off before finally managing to find her skirt on the ground. The remnants of her bra and thong were taken away as souvenirs by the men who had gang-raped her. Before getting off the bus, they all kissed my mother's bare buttocks.

My mother limped off the bus, her nipples clearly visible through her semi-transparent shirt, and people around her stared. My mother said she couldn't walk anymore because she had been standing for so long, so we took a taxi home.

I don't remember what happened after that, only that my mother subtly asked me if I had seen anything on the bus that day. I lied and said I hadn't seen anything, and she didn't say anything more.

Later, my mother found out she was pregnant. In June 1993, I had a younger sister. To avoid the control of the family planning department, my mother took a year of sick leave and returned to her hometown to give birth.

I didn't fully understand until I was 16 that my mother had been gang-raped by those men, and that my younger sister was the product of that gang rape. My father, on the other hand, knew nothing and was kept in the dark the whole time.

[The End]

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