The mother who was drugged

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As the twilight glow gradually enveloped the orphanage filled with laughter, Isabella, watching the setting sun
, remembered it was time to prepare dinner. She clapped her hands and called out to the children, "Children, come and gather here,
we're going back inside to rest."
"Okay!" I replied, standing in line. Watching the mother earnestly calling out the children's names, a surge of
heat . My eyes lingered on her body; her full breasts swelled high, her fiery figure
barely concealed by the conservative apron. Those breasts, if I were to freely knead them, would surely be incredibly soft.
And that usually kind face—would it become ugly and lewd during humiliation and climax? That
beautiful female body, if used as a bitch for sadistic riding, would surely be incredibly pleasurable. Immersed in my
fantasies, I felt completely detached from reality. The burning desire within me stirred my lower body, and my
penis, far larger than most men my age, nearly adult-sized, stood erect.

"Ray, Ray, what's wrong? Didn't you hear what I said?" Just then, Elizabeth walked
up to and gently patted my face, snapping me out of my reverie. Seeing my mother's questioning
face so close to mine, I was startled and quickly covered it up, saying, "Nothing, just thinking about what kind of coffee to make tonight."

"Oh, really? Ray can definitely do it, so don't worry about it,"
Isabella said with a smile, feeling she should encourage her child.

Watching my mother turn and walk into her room, my gaze seemed to penetrate the dark blue fabric, reaching
her two round, jiggling buttocks, and I couldn't help but swallow hard. No, I can't lose control like this. I must restrain myself.
After repeatedly telling myself this, I rallied my spirits and strode into the house.

After dinner, I picked up the coffee-making equipment and went into my mother's room. I had just seen her washing dishes in
the kitchen , so I figured she would be done soon. I skillfully set up
the stand and carefully took out a slightly bluish bottle of medicine from my pocket. This was the key to tonight. I
carefully used the dropper to draw a few drops. But would this dosage be enough for an adult? After all, I had only
prepared it from memory, and I wasn't entirely sure about the dosage those people had injected. If it wasn't effective enough and
Mom broke free, it would be a big problem. Thinking of this, just to be on the safe side, I decided to add more,
pouring in almost a third of the bottle. Just as I was pouring the medicine, the door suddenly opened.

"Ara, Ray, you're already in. What are you doing?"

"Nothing much, just adding ingredients."

"Ingredients? Oh, that empty bottle. You really have a lot of steps when making coffee." Isabella smiled helplessly at the
various .

"Yeah," the black-haired boy replied silently.

"Mom, the coffee's almost ready. Why don't you try some now?"

Isabella looked at the steaming coffee in front of her, realizing she'd never tasted anything like it before,
and felt a sense of novelty. It wouldn't hurt to try it!

Seeing the expectant look in the black-haired boy's eyes, Isabella nodded.
"Alright, thank you, Ray."

She gently blew a puff of cold air, savoring her
coffee . Only after the last drop slid down her throat did Isabella put the coffee down, reflecting on
the taste. It was a little bitter, but after a while, a sweet aftertaste emerged—truly
a magical drink! The beautiful woman, her hair styled in a bun, opened her alluring purple eyes, curving them into captivating crescents, and
praised the boy with a satisfied expression: "Thank you, Ray, your coffee is delicious!"
But after drinking it, she felt a little tired. Why? Was it because she was too exhausted today?

"Okay, Mom, as long as you like it. I'll tidy up the equipment and go back to sleep after I'm cleaned up."

"Okay, goodnight, Lei." My eyelids feel a little heavy. Is it because I just drank coffee? So
this is what happens after drinking coffee. So sleepy. "Okay, goodnight, Mom."

"Thump!" The beautiful woman who was just energetic suddenly slumped down by the wooden table, the small cup she was holding
falling to the ground and slowly spinning.

The black-haired boy turned around, saw the dazed woman, and tentatively called out a few times. After getting no
response , he quickly picked up the cup from the ground.

"Damn it, there's not a drop left!" Seeing the clean bottom of the cup, I couldn't help but shout angrily.
I glared at my sleeping mother, grabbed her collar, and slapped her twice hard.

"Are you a sow? How could you drink so much in one go? How can you have such a big appetite!" Good heavens,
Isabella had only finished it all because she was afraid the leftover coffee would discourage the boy. Normally
, Isabella doesn't have such a big appetite.

Perhaps she had pulled too hard earlier; the neat white collar was slightly torn, revealing
the breasts encased within.

Seeing that patch of snow-white suddenly appear before my eyes, my gaze was irresistibly drawn to it. It
was just a white mound of fat, yet why did it act like a magnet, making it impossible for me to look away? I
reached out and touched that snow-white flesh—soft! That was the first word that flashed through my mind. The warm, smooth texture
felt like a still-warm block of milk, delicate yet incredibly elastic. I couldn't wait to touch
more, to understand more, and roughly ripped open the front of my mother's shirt, revealing her full breasts
encased . The bra was the same clean white as the apron my mother usually wore,
without any fancy patterns, but it was pleasing to the eye. However, this novel
bra didn't attract my attention; my gaze was fixed on the breasts firmly protected by it. What a pleasure it would be to hold
such full breasts in my hands! My mind was
filled with this lustful thought, and I reached out to tear the bra off. But this seemingly fragile protection acted
like fiercely resisting my attack. I pulled several times but couldn't get it off.

"Damn it, how can I not tear it off?" Enraged, I increased the force of my grip,
grabbing the large bra completely, and in the force, I even pulled my mother's upper body over. Holy crap!
The weight of an adult pressed me to the ground, and even through the fabric, I could feel my mother's full breasts pressing
heavily on me. I struggled to pull myself away from this body that was relatively tall to me, and suddenly realized that...
The bra I'd loosened had a clasp at the back, no wonder I couldn't undo it.

Strangely enough, even though it was my first time wearing a woman's bra, my hands
seemed to know exactly how to do it, easily unhooking it. "Click!" With a
crisp sound, the bra that had been clinging to me finally fell limply, revealing the snow-white breasts it had been desperately protecting.
I turned my mother over, so she was lying on her back. As her body shifted, those breasts I'd longed for were finally
fully displayed before me for the first time. The full breasts formed perfect hemispheres, the wide bases giving them a
magnificent appearance, even flat, a perfectly rounded half-moon shape. From my perspective
, it looked like a pair of snow-white melons growing on my mother's chest, a mature feminine aura wafting
over me, making my mouth dry. However, these incredibly mature and beautiful breasts had a
cute little stem that didn't quite match their size. Within those two oceans of breasts, as smooth as solidified cream, floated a pair of crimson
areolas. The small areolas seemed somewhat incongruous against the broad breasts, but the fact that such delicate
areolas appeared on a woman nearing the end of her pregnancy only added to their allure.

I reached out and stroked one of the small nipples; the smooth texture was a delight to my palm.

"Strange, something seems missing. It feels completely different from Emma's." The thought of
something filled my mind, and when my fingers traced the center of the areola, I finally understood.
I grinned wickedly.

"So that's where you are!" My fingers jabbed into the areola, my long fingers actually plunging directly into the flesh
!

"Hehe. I never expected my usually dignified and kind mother to have such shy, envious nipples!"
I pressed down hard, forcefully prying out the hidden pink nipples. Like a cherry
garnish , my mother's alluring breasts were finally revealed to me for the first time.

Looking at those familiar nipples, a sense of intimacy washed over me from my childhood memories. I took those
delicate , sucking on them like an infant nursing, licking the cherry in my mouth. But
ten years had passed. No matter how hard I sucked, even deliberately biting them with my teeth, the swollen nipples wouldn't produce milk.
A surge of rage welled up inside me. I gripped both erect nipples tightly, and with my other hand spread wide,
I slapped my mother's breast hard.

"You worthless beast! With such filthy, lewd breasts, you can't even produce milk!
What good are you?" I swung my hand fiercely, my underdeveloped little hand now a weapon of punishment. The brutal
blows of my hand struck the vast expanse of fleshy breast. The small area of impact amplified the pain, and
often a few slaps would leave a patch of flesh swollen and red. Once one area was reddened, my hand would
quickly move to the next, continuing the attack. Before long, one once plump and luscious breast was
swollen and raw, its skin torn and bleeding. The continuous pain was unbearable even for Isabella, who was barely conscious; her delicate
eyebrows furrowed in agony, making her look particularly pitiful. But I felt no pity now. In fact,
this was the effect I wanted; the pleasure of wanton revenge was exhilarating. I switched hands, continuing to grip
the nearly swollen nipple, while the other hand lashed out, slapping the other half of the breast until flesh flew everywhere,
the crisp sound of slaps echoing in the closed room.

Finally, exhausted, I slumped weakly into a chair, panting heavily.
My mother, standing before me, was in an even worse state. Her once magnificent, snow-white breasts now resembled crushed peaches; their
former elasticity and beauty were now covered in bruises and welts.
Isabella, subjected to torture, had her pretty face slightly wrinkled; in her unconscious state, it seemed as if she were having a
terrible nightmare, her whole body trembling.

[The End]

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