Hosting a dinner party with Mom (Simplified Chinese)

I am a male, eighteen years old, a student.

I am currently writing down my thoughts in front of the computer, stories I cannot tell anyone, cannot express to anyone,

yet can no longer remain hidden in my heart, no longer suppressed within my own reason and emotions

.

At this moment, I am sitting at my desk in a dimly lit room. The only light in the room

is the glow of the computer screen, maintaining the space's existence.

The faint blue light emanating from the screen illuminates the silhouette of a naked woman on the bed beside the desk.

The woman on the bed is asleep, unconscious, yet her breathing is rapid, for she has just been raped by five

men .

Although the light was dim, one could still see the beautiful curves

of her figure the large amount of semen left on her face, chest, abdomen, and even her vulva. Some of it belonged

to strangers, and some to her son. And this woman, yes, she was my mother.

Don't misunderstand, my mother was not a promiscuous woman; on the contrary, she was a very

pure traditional, and somewhat foolish Chinese woman.

My mother married at nineteen and gave birth to me at twenty. My father was her first love. In her heart, she

only had one man in her life; her love and body would forever belong only to her husband.

However, she herself was unaware that, in the past ten years, she had been used by dozens of men,

unknowingly enduring their sexual abuse. Her four children may not all have had

a father, and some may even have been fathered by her son.

She would never have imagined that the humiliation of recent years was orchestrated by her son—me.

"Xiaozhi, you need to keep a close eye on Mom. She has congenital hypoglycemia and often suddenly loses

consciousness and faints, but it's not a big deal. When she does, just stay by her side and

give her some candy to help raise her blood sugar. Of course, Grandpa will be there for you; he'll handle it.

Just stay calm. When Grandpa isn't around, you'll take care of Mom."

My father told me this when I was about four years old and starting to understand things. I was young then and only

half understood what he was saying. All I knew was: Mom often faints, but don't be afraid; just ask Grandpa for help.

From then on, whenever my mother fainted at home, I would go to my grandfather. Every time my grandfather praised me

, he would carry my mother into the room. I tried to follow him in, but the door was locked. After a long time, my grandfather would

come out. I would go in and see my mother sleeping peacefully in bed, covered with a blanket, her face flushed. I felt relieved;

my mother was alright.

Grandpa said to me, "Xiaozhi, do you want Mom to praise you? If you do, say that Grandpa didn't come, that you

helped Mom to bed, that you took care of her, understand?"

Of course I agreed to be praised by Mom, and in fact, she always praised me afterwards. Grandpa

took care of Mom all by himself, but he let me take the credit, which made me very happy.

Once, my mother asked me, "Xiao Zhi, what did you do to me after I fainted?"

Before I could understand what she meant, she muttered to herself, "I was confused. Xiao Zhi is only six years old.

What can someone so young do? It's probably a problem with my body. I'm sorry, Xiao Zhi, it's nothing."

I was even more confused by her words. It wasn't until I was nine that I understood what she meant.

And it was precisely because of this period? I was still a clueless child, completely unsuspecting,

and in the absence of other suspects, my naive and ignorant mother gradually accepted that the lingering

sensation in her genitals each time she woke up was a normal reaction to the illness. This led to her

absolute and also contributed to her life of allowing the men around her to enjoy her as they pleased.

When I was eight, my mother gave birth to my second brother. My father was puzzled: "I always take precautions, how

could I still get pregnant? Hehe, maybe I'm too good at it, oh well! Xiaozhi, you have a companion now."

A year later, my grandfather passed away. When he died, my father took a week off to handle the funeral arrangements. During that time, my mother fainted

once , and my father simply carried her to bed without locking the door or stopping me from going into the room to see her. I found this very strange.

On the first day after my father returned to work, my mother became unconscious again. I tried to take care of my mother on my own, carrying her

to bed, and only then did I realize that at nine years old, I was incapable of carrying her to bed by myself. I was astonished by my mother's

simple-mindedness and lack of trust in people, actually believing that I, a child, had been taking care of her all along.

Having no other options, I asked the neighbors for help. There's an uncle next door whose wife is often at work. He himself

is unemployed and spends his days idly at home. My mother and the other ladies in the neighborhood often talk about him and criticize him, but

I don't really think much of him.

When the uncle came over and saw my mother lying on the floor, he called out to her twice and nudged her a couple of times. When she didn't

respond , he reached out and began to slowly caress her breasts.

It was then that I noticed a woman's breasts for the first time, watching them being kneaded and deformed. A strange feeling arose

in my heart . Are they really that soft? Is this how they're "used"?

My uncle stroked her for a while before realizing I'd been watching him. He told me to stay in the living room to look after my younger brother, then

carried my unconscious mother into the room. Unlike with my grandfather, this time my uncle didn't lock the door. I tiptoed to the door and

peeked in. My uncle was undressing my mother.

This was the first time I'd ever seen a woman's naked body—the naked body of a 29-year-old woman, slender and graceful!

My own mother's naked body! Those breasts, that valley—to a nine-year-old boy, it wasn't

particularly beautiful, but it was a primal shock from the bottom of my heart. I stood there, mesmerized.

My mother's clothes were off in the blink of an eye. My uncle then placed one hand on her genitals and began thrusting repeatedly, while he bent down

to kiss and suckle her breasts.

I watched as the man, who wasn't my father, repeatedly kissed and sucked my mother's body, and I felt a strange, indescribable feeling.

Although I was only nine years old at the time and didn't know what sex or rape was, I still realized

my uncle was abusing my mother. I knew I should stop him, but I was too curious, too attracted, and I couldn't bear

to intervene.

When my uncle took off his clothes, it was another kind of shock. What was that? It wasn't a small penis

like , but a terrifyingly large, hard cock!

When that large cock entered my mother's vagina, I couldn't believe my eyes, even though it was nine years ago.

The events, though vividly etched in my memory, seem as clear as if they happened yesterday.

I still clearly remember the feeling—the feeling of seeing a man's

genitals ! The feeling of seeing my mother being raped by another man for the first time!

It was utterly devastating! I was terrified! My throat was dry, my hands were trembling, my heart was

pounding, and what shocked me most was that my penis began to swell and ache—the first time my penis had swelled and ached, the first time I had felt such a

swell and ache from seeing my mother being raped.

What I remember even more vividly is the feeling of spontaneously masturbating my own penis with my hand for the first time, as the uncle frantically thrust into my mother

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He sped up, and I sped up too. Finally, a wave of dizziness washed over me, and I reached my first

orgasm .

My uncle then yelled, and everything fell silent. As he left my mother, his still-throbbing member slowly withdrew from

her vagina, leaving a trail of discharge connecting their genitals—a scene I will never forget.

After my uncle finished, he cleaned and dressed my mother, and then left. I was left alone in the room, staring blankly at

my mother. I wanted to reach out and touch her breasts, to take off her pants and try to feel my penis inside her.

But I didn't dare. I wanted to, but I really didn't dare. After all, I was just a nine-year-old child.

When Mom woke up, she seemed perfectly normal, as if nothing had happened. But she possessed a kind of virtuous

and she had been wronged and aggrieved. She smiled and thanked me for taking care of her, making me feel no sense of hurt.

My mind was a complete mess. I had actually allowed another man to enjoy my mother's body, because I was enjoying it too!

I was enjoying the strange feeling of someone raping my mother in front of me! That bittersweet, humiliating, and

wronged feeling, yet incredibly stimulating sensation!

That night, I kept thinking about my mother's body, about the scene of her being raped by my uncle that morning. At the same time, I

realized that for the past few years, my grandfather had been repeatedly thrusting his penis into my sleeping mother, just like my uncle, in the locked room,

and I had been unknowingly cooperating with him.

After my mother's second bout of dizziness, I struggled with my thoughts for a long time before making the first

act of betraying my mother. Knowing she would be raped, I still called the neighbor's uncle to help, just to

get the thrill of witnessing my mother being violated in front of me again.

Anyway, she had been used by my grandfather for so many years without realizing it, so what's wrong with letting my uncle play with her

? That's what I thought at the time. From that day on, my poor mother, unknowingly, became the leading lady in a live performance for

her son to enjoy.

For the next six months, I called my uncle to rape my mother once or twice a week on average, while I

secretly he used different positions to have sex with her.

Later, during one of his orgasms, a large amount of semen gushed from the tip of my penis. I

was stunned and stood there dumbfounded.

That's when I realized that my uncle wasn't just penetrating my mother; he had been

injecting . He had injected forty or fifty doses of a snot-like substance into my mother's belly!

It felt like those things had branded my mother's body, making her my uncle's woman. I also

longed to bury a part of my body inside my mother, making her my possession.

That night, I started dreaming of having sex with my mother, filling her vagina with semen.

The next time, without calling my uncle, I undressed my mother on the floor, sucking and rubbing her

breasts and vagina, trying to rape my own mother for the first time.

My mind had always been filled with countless images of my grandfather and mother committing adultery, so

I didn't think it was sinful; a mother who allowed herself to be raped wouldn't mind letting her son share in the spoils.

I was so eager, so excited, but somehow I just couldn't get an erection! Nothing worked. After fifteen

minutes , I gave up and went next door to call my uncle.

I don't know if it was psychological or if I had become accustomed to this routine. When I saw my mother being

raped , my penis actually got hard again!

After he finished and left, I went into the room and looked at my mother's vulva, which was covered in semen. I felt an

indescribable pain and excitement. My penis immediately became as hard as an iron rod. This time, I finally succeeded in inserting my penis into my mother's

wet vagina and thrusting. It was my first time having sex with my own mother!

I can't describe the feeling of having sex with my mother for the first time! I remained on top of her, gazing at her dignified and

peaceful face, her eyes closed in a deep sleep, as if she were willingly accepting her son's violation and violation.

I thrust into her honeyed cave, pounding forcefully against her uterus, and then, in a state of extreme excitement, I poured my

offspring into the place of my birth. My second ejaculation in my life was accepted and

contained by a woman's body, and that woman was none other than my own mother!

Even in her unconscious state, she had a slight smile on her lips! While I was intoxicated by the exhilarating pleasure of ejaculating into a woman's uterus for the first time

, I was also gratified that my sleeping mother was enjoying the pleasure of being struck by her son's semen.

The thrill was unbearable. I rode on top of my mother, whipping her into submission, controlling and subduing my once-powerful mother .

Unbeknownst to her, she allowed her son, who usually obeyed her every command, to establish

a stronghold .

A ten-year-old boy, like an emperor, pinned his mother, whom he both respected and feared, to the bed, thrusting into her with abandon before

releasing his essence again. It felt like a dog urinating in the street to claim its territory, asserting dominance over

land that once belonged only to his father.

I gripped my mother like a mad dog, ejaculating again and again until I was utterly exhausted. I will never forget that

exquisite experience. When

Mom woke up, she was completely unaware that her belly was filled with her son's semen. She still thanked me as usual, but to my ears,

she was thanking me for injecting her with my essence, thanking her son for his dominance and pampering of her body.

In my eyes, Mom, just awakened, was different. From this day forward, she officially became a

woman , officially became my woman, officially became her son's plaything. She was especially beautiful today.

From then on, whenever Mom had a seizure and fell into a coma, I would have someone rape her, and then I would "take my second wife" and

go for it. Each time, she would thank me with satisfaction after being raped.

Over time, things became like an addiction, growing deeper and deeper, requiring ever greater stimulation. Uncle alone...

That wasn't enough for me. For years, I led a group of men to steal from my mother, including my uncle, the security guard

, my own uncle, my father's sworn brother, several other neighbors, and a dozen strangers.

They were door-to-door salesmen, survey takers, deliverymen, and one even came to proselytize!

Of course, some knew my intentions. As I grew older, I could no longer pretend to be ignorant, nor could I pretend to be too weak to carry

my mother into the room. They all understood. The neighbor uncles, my own uncle, and the security guard all knew what their beastly son

, me was up to, and they were happy to cooperate. Everyone understood without a word, and each got what they wanted.

The neighbor uncle knew I was peeping outside the door and often put my mother in humiliating positions for my amusement.

Several times they brought two or three men I didn't know, letting me witness

the tragic scene of my mother being gang-raped by several men simultaneously.

The more and more unfamiliar the men who came to rape my mother, the more excited I became, and the more enjoyable it became. Without

the stimulation , I couldn't do anything.

Sometimes when my parents met and talked with the security guard in the lobby, I would also feel excited: my mother was unaware that she had

been used countless times by the man in front of her, and had even tasted his penis, yet she was completely oblivious and politely

greeted him! She even received a monthly salary from him!

My mother disliked the idle uncle next door and kept quiet about him. When she saw her uncle's wife, she would often

say, "Marrying a man like that, I must have done something terrible in my past life!" Little did she know that for years she had become her daytime sexual

substitute , being repeatedly impregnated by her husband and bearing his children at any time.

My father was even more tragic. He didn't know that several of his male colleagues were his

brothers , and he often boasted to them about having a virtuous and beautiful wife. Every time I saw them

chatting and getting along harmoniously, or when my mother put on a ladylike demeanor in front of the men who had cheated on her, I would

get .

I know this is a pathological condition, a very serious one both physically and psychologically, and the condition is constantly worsening, but

I can't do anything about it anymore. During this period, I dated several women, but no matter how intimate we became, I

couldn't get an erection. I was completely addicted.

During this time, my mother gave birth to two more children, both boys. I don't know who the biological father is, but I believe

at least one of them is mine.

My father, who had been using contraception, was very surprised. However, because my mother was traditional and kind-hearted, he

trusted , attributing it to insufficient contraception and having no suspicions whatsoever.

He never imagined that all along, his wife had been accepting all sorts of men, constantly absorbing the sperm of every man

around her . The most tragic thing is that for over ten years, he had been using a condom while having sex with his wife. While she was

constantly getting pregnant and giving birth to children for other men, he was the only one who couldn't ejaculate inside her.

Two years ago, my mother was thirty-six, I was sixteen, and my three younger brothers were eight, six, and four years old respectively. They had

begun to suspect and be curious why, every time my mother fainted, my older brother would call a man to carry her into the room, and then have him

go in after she came out.

I knew that the truth would eventually come out, so I decided to strike first. One time, while my uncle was raping my mother,

I brought my three younger brothers into the room to watch!

They were dumbfounded. Children are young and ignorant, but stimulated by this, and with our strong encouragement, they were eager

to try it themselves.

That day, my second brother successfully entered my mother's tender vagina and was extremely excited. My third and fourth brothers were too young to get an erection, so

I opened my mother's mouth and sucked their little penises, making them laugh out loud.

The three children, all under ten years old, played with and humiliated their sleeping mother like a toy for nearly an hour, and in the end, they were all

satisfied.

From then on, whether my mother was awake or unconscious, she unknowingly became

the object of her children's sexual gratification. After going out, my brothers would take turns using her underwear to masturbate, and when she returned, they would look forward to her flare-up.

In their minds, they only knew that it was exciting and fun, without knowing whether it was harming their mother. They are too young and wise to understand what incest

and , which is why I'm taking action now.

The poor mother, upon returning, embraces and hugs them, letting them take advantage of her, unaware that her

sons are actually waiting for a chance to gang rape her. She innocently gives her genuine maternal love, completely oblivious to

our lewdness and manipulation, unknowingly sleeping with a tiger.

Perhaps due to premature stimulation and training, the younger brothers are developing much faster than normal. Two months ago, even the six-year-old fourth

brother was able to penetrate their mother, though he couldn't ejaculate. The eight-year-old third brother

injected his first semen into their mother's uterus at the beginning of this year. The second brother, needless to say, has already given their mother countless doses of tonics, and they even say

they want to race each other to get their mother impregnated.

The brothers, with their excessive energy, usually release their pent-up energy through masturbation, which is then channeled into their mother's long-term consumption of

glucose .

She might faint more than twice a week, limiting the number of times we can ejaculate inside her, but

unknowingly she's consuming all the essence her sons release every day. Every drop of the sperm my two sons produce each day

goes straight into my womb. Without realizing it, I've been turning my brothers into even more

perverted beasts than I am!

I feel uneasy about my brothers' behavior, but the thought of my mother unknowingly consuming her sons'

semen every day, seeing her constantly drinking glucose water and licking her

lips as if she really enjoys it, makes my penis throb painfully.

Her younger brothers jokingly asked her, "Isn't it delicious? Does Mom love drinking this stuff?"

The oblivious mother smiled sweetly and replied, "It's delicious, Mom loves it the most."

The children cheered, and the mother, unaware of the deception, continued to pour her sons' semen into her mouth, continuing

her lewd performance of swallowing her son's semen.

I can't remember which early morning it was, before dawn, I woke up to urinate and saw my mother, who habitually got up early for her morning exercise

, sitting alone at the dining table, gazing at the beautiful dawn outside the window, leisurely

savoring her fresh milk breakfast filled with her son's semen. It was as if she woke up early, eager to check on the children's

developmental progress from the previous day, and as if she were meticulously examining her son's reproductive capabilities and the quality of his semen.

This feeling was different from when we injected semen into her vagina while she was unconscious. Regardless of whether she was aware of it or not,

the mother was now actively receiving her children's semen; she was consciously experiencing her son's semen while fully conscious.

The taste and texture.

In the soft morning light, Mom's body seemed transparent. I could almost see my brother's semen flowing into her stomach

and dissolving into every part of her body, becoming a part of her. After merging with her son's semen, Mom's silhouette emitted a soft

glow, like a Greek mother offering herself to lust and love. The whole scene was poetic and beautiful.

From that moment on, Mom began a

regular sex life of eating her son's semen every day, then being raped and filled with semen by strangers and her sons in turn, and then getting up to eat her son's semen again, becoming

a virtuous .

Perhaps it's because she unknowingly fed her sons with semen every day, and her uterus was constantly immersed in nourishment from

countless , that the countless marks of happiness continuously injected over more than a decade gradually radiated from her appearance.

Now thirty-eight years old, my mother is increasingly radiant, with a full and alluring figure,

the image of .

Knowing the truth, it's as if I see through my mother's rosy complexion

thousands . It feels as if seventy percent of my mother's body is composed of semen, like a charity fundraiser where everyone

gets a share, never missing out.

Sometimes I'm confused about what I've done; is it right or wrong? Unaware of the truth, the mother

received nourishment and pleasure from countless men, yet maintained her dignity as a lady. Every day, she faced

the countless men who had contributed to her body with unwavering confidence, accepting the praise and

admiration . This is perhaps the lifelong dream of many women; is it ultimately a blessing or a curse?

Every evening, watching my family huddled together on the sofa watching television, I am deeply moved.

My mother is surrounded by a pack of beasts, unaware that she is, in effect, a public toilet for all the men in the family

, where we freely urinate, receiving

all the semen our sons release from the moment they begin to ejaculate.

If she knew that the four sons she had raised were not only constantly defiling her, but also using her as a tool for

public spectacle, and that she, unknowingly orchestrated by her sons, was having intercourse with familiar men and even strangers

, how would she feel?

Yet, how could a kind-hearted woman imagine the depths of a man's bestiality?

Just like on the sofa, her fourth son, presuming on his youth, feigned ignorance and groped her breasts, while she

simply it as an expression of her son's love, letting him do as he pleased.

This is understandable; who would imagine that her six-year-old son already harbored such insatiable desires for women, viewing

his mother as prey? In fact, he had already tried entering and exiting her body countless times before.

The father, oblivious to the fact that the son beside him was not his own, but

a beast who had been constantly defiling his mother, innocently allowed them to feign ignorance as they continued to fondle his wife's breasts,

comforting themselves as they watched television.

At that moment, the family continued to writhe on the sofa as if nothing had happened, each

finding solace in their own hearts or schemes. To me, it was innocent, heartwarming, and wicked all at once.

This morning, before my mother fell into a coma, she suddenly said to me with a sudden emotion, "Seeing you all so grown up, so

full of life , makes me so comforted. As long as you are well, what happens to me doesn't matter."

Hearing this, I rushed to the bathroom and wept.

Mom, do you know that you've always used your body to teach us life lessons? Did you use your womb

to absorb our adolescent curiosity and desire for sex? Did you use your stomach acid to digest our respect and

humiliation ? Did you use the sexual services you provided to increase our hormones and help us grow and mature?

I hate that I'm a beast who understands pain, instead of a completely good animal or a truly good person. Two

hours later, our great mother's body was once again enjoyed by us; our great mother once again used her flesh to nurture

and teach us.

Just now, after my brothers had satisfied their lust and left, only I remained with my mother's

naked body, once again filled with semen. Looking at this pure mother body, unaware of being violated a thousand times, my previous sorrow

transformed into an overwhelming lust. I once again thrust my penis into this beautiful cunt I had violated for eight years.

Under my frenzied thrusting, my mother unconsciously revealed a satisfied smile as she slept soundly, as if telling me: "

Mom is enjoying your humiliation! Mom will use her maternal love and dignity to forgive and satisfy her sons'

masochistic desires and sins of betraying their mother!"

My thrusting speed increased, and my strength grew, until, in the instant after the final, frenzied

thrust , my unconscious mother suddenly opened her eyes and looked at me! Time seemed to stand still.

Our eyes met in a panic, a moment that felt like an eternity, but in an instant, my mother's eyes closed again, and

she fell unconscious once more.

The rape was over, and my mother was still sleeping peacefully. I knew she hadn't woken up; it was just a momentary

reaction.

However, the moment I was ejaculating inside her, the guilt

and embarrassment of looking at her so close, so close to me, was overwhelming.

Thinking of this, I couldn't suppress the grief in my heart again. I'm typing this at the computer while

weeping, quietly awaiting the end of my fate.

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