Breastfeeding in the street and gang-raped while breastfeeding (Part 1)

Three thugs kidnapped my wife and gang-raped her while she was breastfeeding in a van: Part 1 (Long Realistic Story) 1. My wife was harassed while breastfeeding facing the street. My wife had given birth to our child about five or six months ago, and the baby was still breastfeeding.

That day, we went to the mall.

Just as we were about to enter the mall, the baby got hungry and wanted to breastfeed.

My wife sat on the steps of the mall by the roadside to breastfeed the baby, facing the middle of the road.

It was about 2 pm, and it was still very hot. Apart from the occasional passing vehicle, there were hardly any people walking on the road.

I couldn't wait, so I went into the mall first.

Homepage/The Way Home******.com Homepage/The Way Home*********.com Because my wife had shingles during her postpartum period, it was very severe, covering her waist and back, so she was very sensitive to heat. At home, she always wore only a pair of shorts, yes, no underwear.

When there were other people around and she wasn't breastfeeding, she wore a semi-transparent shirt. When we went out, she wore

the same top as usual, except she had to wear underwear on her bottom. I was very unhappy about this and told her to wear a bra.

But she always complained about being hot. Later, I heard about special bras for breastfeeding, so we went to the mall to buy one. Because my wife was afraid of the heat and didn't want the hassle of lifting her shirt and taking off the bra to breastfeed, she insisted on wearing only a short-sleeved shirt on top, except that at home she wore a semi-transparent one, and this time she wore a pure white, opaque one. I had no choice but to listen to her. We chose around 1 p.m., when there were fewer people. Just as I entered the mall, I heard men whistling behind me. I thought someone was harassing my wife. I turned around and saw a van. As it passed my wife, it slowed down, and the back window rolled down, revealing two men whistling at her. I was furious and quickly walked over. At that moment, the van rolled up its window and sped away. I went over to complain to my wife, telling her to find a place to breastfeed inside the mall. My wife got angry and refused. She thought she was right, and the two thugs were the ones at fault, while I was blaming her. That's just her personality. I got angry too, so I went into the mall first. 2. My wife went missing. I waited for more than ten minutes, but she still hadn't come in. So I went out to look for her. She was no longer outside. I searched everywhere, circling the mall, and when I got to the back alley, I saw a van. At that moment, it was just a gut feeling, I thought, maybe she's in this van. Actually, I didn't think too much about it, just a fleeting suspicion, nothing more. As I passed the van, I glanced at it. The van seemed to be shaking slightly. Looking again, the tint on the van was very thick, and through the front window, I could vaguely see the shadows of people moving around, but I couldn't make out what they were. There were signs of a collision on the front and the side of the van, it was obviously driven by someone who did manual labor, and I felt there was more than one person inside. I'm a weak scholar, afraid of getting into trouble, so I glanced at the van again and drove away. I just felt that the people in the van weren't doing anything good; back then, many thugs used this kind of van to commit crimes. I thought to myself, "Someone else is having bad luck." Of course, I never imagined that I would be the one to suffer. I kept walking, and when I reached the alley entrance, the van started up and drove out through another exit. I turned to the front of the mall, but still couldn't see my wife. Had she gone into the mall by herself? I wondered, and went inside. I searched all four floors but couldn't find her. I was anxious and confused, so I went downstairs and left the mall. Just then, I saw my wife carrying our child walking towards the mall. Not far behind her, a van was speeding away. The license plate looked a bit like the one I had seen earlier, because I hadn't memorized it when I looked at it. My wife saw me and was clearly startled, but didn't say anything. I asked my wife where she had gone. She said, "Didn't you complain that I was breastfeeding in the street? So I went to find a secluded spot behind the building." Address Page/The Way Home *********.com Address Page/The Way Home **********.com 3. My wife's unusual reaction left me speechless. I leaned over and took the baby from her. It was obvious that both her breasts had shrunk, the kind that appear after the milk has been completely drained. Her nipples were soaked with milk, and even though her top was pure white and opaque, the wetness clung tightly to her breasts, making her nipples faintly visible. I felt a slight displeasure. As I took the baby, my hand accidentally touched her breast, and my wife let out a soft "Ah." I glanced at her, and she turned her head to the side and started walking towards the mall. When we reached the third floor, I realized she was clearly struggling to walk. At that time, the mall didn't have an elevator. On the third floor, in the women's clothing section, I started looking for a bra with a lift-up cup. While my wife searched, I sat on a chair with the baby in my arms, waiting for her. After looking around for a while, the baby cried, probably hungry. My wife came over, took the baby, and sat down on another chair opposite me to breastfeed. She glanced around, then looked at me, lifted her shirt and bra, revealing her entire breast, and put the nipple in the baby's mouth. She glanced at me again, as if to say, "Aren't you afraid people will see us here?" I glanced at my wife's breast, my gaze naturally sliding down to her crotch. Hmm? I noticed something was off about her crotch. Because my wife's lochia had only recently stopped, and we hadn't been intimate since giving birth, she had been using thick sanitary pads in her vagina. Before we left, while I was holding the baby and waiting for her, I saw her change the pads. After she finished and pulled up her pants, her crotch was noticeably raised. Now, the raised part was gone, looking exactly the same as before, and there was a very obvious wet stain in the middle of her crotch. Before I could think further, my wife finished feeding, stood up, and walked back and forth with the baby. The baby cried for a little while longer before calming down. 4. My speculation and fantasies about this matter. I have fantasized a lot. I know that my wife was teased by whistling. And it is very likely that she was pulled into the van. However, I really do not want to accept that she has been fucked. This is how I analyzed it: The first time the person in the van whistled, it was to tease my wife, that is for sure. The second time I saw the van, the van was shaking. At that time, I did not have the concept of car sex, and I could not imagine what it would be like to fuck in a car. The third time I saw the van, it can be understood that the van put my wife down, which is also somewhat reasonable. But how did my wife get into the van? It is obvious that the van left after teasing her the first time. It is also possible that the van was looking at other corroborating evidence: address/home/road home******.c○m address/home*********.com (1) My wife must have spent a lot of energy going upstairs. She went up three floors, which was obviously difficult. But I don't know if she was tired from resisting or tired from being played with? Of course I hope it was because I was tired from resisting. (2) My wife's breasts must have been sucked clean, and the nipples were bitten.

The evidence is: When I took the baby from my wife's arms, her breasts were noticeably smaller.

I gently touched her nipple, and she cried out in pain.

Also, when I was breastfeeding upstairs, I finished feeding both breasts in less than five minutes, and the baby was still hungry and crying.

(3) Her vagina was definitely touched.

She got off the bus to tidy her clothes, but didn't tidy her pants.

I've tried it, and if you take off your pants in the bus, you have to get off to tidy them up before you can put them back on.

And if it's gang rape, it would take three people 20 minutes to finish. However, her vagina was definitely touched, at least through her pants. The crotch of her underwear was wet, and the paper she used to pad her crotch was pulled out, although it was very likely that she touched her flesh directly.

But, after all, I asked my wife a few days before that day, and she said that she still had some lochia.

(4) Was her vagina penetrated? But it shouldn't have been penetrated, right? Because my wife was still holding the baby.

I guessed that before they stopped, one of the two people behind her covered her mouth, and the other held her.

After the car stopped, another person helped fold down the back seat, then returned to the driver's seat, ready to drive if necessary.

One person spread his wife's legs apart, holding down one hand and one leg, while also covering her mouth.

The other two, one holding the child and the other holding down his wife's other leg, knew that his wife would strain her legs, making penetration difficult, especially since the child was crying. The three of them took turns sucking her breasts.

However, because her pants were wet around her vaginal opening, I dared not imagine anything further, nor did I dare to ask her.

It was precisely because of this uncertainty that I fantasized about this for a long time.

5. The truth: Before the divorce, my wife told me about this. The actual process was like this. Because it has been almost 20 years, there may be slight differences in individual details, but I will remember the general outline.

After I entered the mall, my wife looked at the baby in her arms. He wasn't full yet, and it would be soon, so she sat down again. She was still angry about being whistled at and harassed by two thugs, and had initially wanted to leave, but my complaints had spurred her on. Not finding a place to sit, she remained defiant.

Five or six minutes later, the baby finished feeding and fell asleep.

My wife pulled the breast out of the baby's mouth, looked at her other breast—it was full and plump. The baby had only nursed from half a breast at home once, and this time he was full.

My wife put down her clothes and stood up.

Suddenly, a van screeched to a halt in front of her. She looked up sharply and saw two thugs, one bald and the other with a crew cut, lunging at her. The crew-cut man snatched the baby from her arms and ran to the van, while the bald man, with one hand covering her mouth and the other around her hips, scooped her up and rushed into the van.

Immediately afterward, the van sped away before the doors could even close.

The wife struggled, asking, "What are you doing?" She thought she'd encountered human traffickers.

A sense of foreboding flashed through her mind.

At that moment, the bald man's arm was across her chest, his hand grabbing her breast, while his other hand was positioned between her legs.

This embrace was peculiar; it both held her and made her feel the attack on her sensitive areas. Beyond her instinctive physical resistance, there was also an underlying shyness, which weakened her resolve.

"Hehe, don't be afraid,"

the bald man said. "We're not human traffickers, we won't hurt you, we just want to suck your breasts." Back

then, human traffickers were much more ruthless than they are now.

"You scoundrel! Give me back my child! Let me go!"

the wife cursed, kicking and struggling to pry the man's hands away.

But it was all in vain. In less than twenty seconds, the wife and child were dragged into the van, which then drove off.

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Breastfeeding in the street and gang-raped while breastfeeding (Part 1)

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