****

This is yet another in a series of attempted tributes to one of the masters of the raunchy erotic story field, Phil Phantom. Faster-paced, more vulgar, and less-realistic than my normal stories, I find doing them refreshing and often it cleans the cobwebs from my head after writing a long, complicated story.
Additional Disclaimer:
I am totally against actual rape. I don't even find depictions of forced and unwanted sex very arousing. In light of that, the title and plot of this might seem surprising. So I'd like to remind you that the cardinal rule in my stories is that the characters wind up really enjoying what happens to them, and especially in a Phil Phantom-style universe, are often more happier and more fulfilled for it, even if they might deny it to themselves or others. That is the case of every rape in this story, regardless of how ridiculous that assertion would be in reality. There's much in this story that's as unrealistic, if not more. Think of it as the sexual equivalent of consequence-free cartoon violence. Enjoy it on that level, or don't.

### Rape Beach - A Phil Phantom Tribute by AnonyMPC (M+f, M+F, mF, mf, FF, Ff, b, g, inc, reluc, nc, ped, orgy, gang, oral, anal, implied beast, stroke, more)

I was having tea with my friend Carol, just shooting the breeze like we usually do, and because she had just mentioned her husband, I remembered I had something to tell her. "That reminds me, your husband was awfully shameless when I saw him earlier. He tried to trick me into going down to Rape Beach."

I guess I should probably explain that, for those of you that don't live in a town with a Rape Beach, or a Rape Alley, or Rape Bar, or something like it. It's not the place's official name... I'm not even sure it has an official name. You see, where the regular beach ends, there's a stretch of rocks, and then the shoreline turns off in a little inlet, and there's another short stretch of sand before there's more impassable rocks. It can't be easily seen from the rest of the beach, but if you're willing to go a little off the beaten path, it's easy enough to get to... of course, whether you want to is another matter. See, it's called Rape Beach for a very obvious reason. Girls who go there get raped, and nobody will do a damn thing about it.

It started something like twenty years ago. Girls got raped on the beach from time to time before that, but the legend really began when eventually one set of parents reported it... the problem was, they chose the worst possible rapists to go after. Their sixteen-year-old daughter was raped by two college boys. One of the boys was the son of the town's largest employer. The other was the sheriff's son. It wasn't their first rape, but everyone else had the good sense to not poke that anthill. I wasn't old enough to be aware of it back then, but from what I hear, the sheriff pretended to take it seriously... and then "discovered" that that particular stretch of beach was outside of his jurisdiction, and so he wasn't going to do a damned thing about any "alleged" rapes on that beach.

The angry father raised a fuss, talking about it all over town, how the cops were in on it and how he was going to get the Feds... and then he, his wife, and the rape victim were all found dead in their home. Drug dealer revenge, they said. Well, we're a small town, and people talk, and everybody suspected that either the sheriff or the factory owner Phil Grayson "arranged" a hit to protect his son's reputation, and that anybody who had a daughter get raped out on that beach had better keep their mouths shut, because little Billy Grayson was probably involved in that one, too. If the elder Grayson killed that family, he could kill anybody, and even if the feds did bust in and start digging into it, well, the town's economy wouldn't survive if Grayson went down for a triple murder.

My grandmothers swears that this was bull, that the family really was into dealing drugs, and that people who wanted to have a Rape Beach just latched onto the conspiracy theory and spread it around, but whatever the truth, the next time a rape happened on that beach, with those same two kids the known assailants, it was only whispered about. No charges were attempted, either local or federally. And so the legend grew... if you got raped on that beach, you had no justice coming to you. By the time I was ten, it was already called "Rape Beach", although nobody I talked to would ever say exactly where it was. I found out the hard way.

Why did it happen to me? I guess it was my fault. Everyone else blames the victim, so why shouldn't I? I don't know how it happened, but there came to be a certain... etiquette around Rape Beach, over the years. Pastor Gideon, who counseled me after my first rape, once told me that it was inevitable, to deal with a horror, there have to be rules so people can wrap their heads around it. A rape epidemic was a horror, but there were rules, so everyone could live with it, hell, even have fun with it. Rapes in town would be investigated more or less normally... or as normally as you could get in a small town with a corrupt police force. They'd try to downplay the incident or convince the victim not to press charges, but if the victims were insistent, they'd have a chance at justice... although juries frequently failed to convict on rape or molestation charges if they thought the girl was asking for it, or generally sinful. For example, breaking the seal of confessional to reveal that Pastor Gideon's post-rape counseling included a lot of oral sex would not have gone over well with the jury, so I doubted I could have gotten him convicted, and I never bothered to try. If I had, though, I'm confident that I would at least get a file opened and might have gotten a day in court.

A rape on Rape Beach would not even get investigated. It would not be prosecuted even if the cops witnessed it happening. They wouldn't even interfere to stop it, unless one of the rules of Rape Beach were broken. One of those rules was that a girl had to step onto the beach under her own power. She could be tricked, into it, of course, like I was, but she couldn't be dragged or carried. "Watch where you're going," mothers would sometimes say, "so you don't accidentally wind up on Rape Beach." Well, I didn't watch where I was going, and I trusted the guy I was with, so I got raped. Not just raped, gang-raped.

See, when you have a beach where rapes are allowed, it doesn't take long for there to be gang rapes as a regular feature. If a guy had a gullible girl he might warn his buddies in advance, and sometimes, guys would hang around there in the hopes that a girl would show up. It wasn't really violent, if a girl fought like hell they usually let her go, so they didn't think they were doing anything wrong, they thought of it like a game, catch the girl and hold her down till she likes it. Pretty soon, a lot of us 'victims' thought of it the same way, sex without consequences... well, not without consequences, but without blame, without the shame of being a slut, at least not usually.
In my case, the first time wasn't a game, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it and I saw the benefits early on. I thought I was in love, as twelve-year-olds sometimes do, with Billy (not Billy Grayson, but it's a common name), a young man of eighteen in my neighborhood, who I would follow and pester and ask out, until one day he finally agreed, not a date-date, not a night-date to the movies or dinner like I wanted, but he told me he'd be willing to go for a day-date, a drive out into the woods where he wanted to show me the place he went to unwind. I jumped at that chance, and had no idea when we took a walk down a wooded path that it would end at the edge of Rape Beach, a beach I'd never seen with my own eyes and so, when I stepped off of grass and on to sand, I didn't know what I was getting into. I did see a crowd of Billy's friends, and I just blindly followed him when he went over to say hi and introduce me. Pretty soon, a hand was wrapped around my mouth and another was penetrating places only my own fingers hand gone before, and I was introduced to more cocks than faces. A hell of a way for a girl to lose her virginity, losing it to several guys at once, and with my eyes shut so tight I couldn't even be sure of the guy who did it, except that it wasn't Billy. They played rock-paper-scissors for first crack at each of my holes, and I remember Billy complaining later about doing all the work to bring me there and not getting first crack at any of them. But the griping was good-natured, like it was all just a game to them, which, I guess, it was.

By now, it was a game for me too, and long ago I stopped thinking of guys as monsters when they tried to trick me onto the beach, even if I decided to turn most of them down. Normally, I wouldn't even bring it up, except to Carol, and when it was her husband who tried, it was amusing enough that I had to share the story.

"Really? I'm surprised Ray had the balls," Carol said, not especially worried that her husband tried to rape me. Or tried to get me to go somewhere where both of us knew he could rape me. Either way, it didn't bother her. Carol was pretty liberal, not at all concerned at holding her husband to his vows, probably because she'd hadn't even honored hers through the wedding reception, which was held on the beach, not Rape Beach but near enough for a little side-trip for anybody who was interested, and it turned out the bride was game.

"Me too. I thought he was too much of a wimp for rape, you know, a nice guy. But it was so obvious, and you could tell he had no idea of how the beach works." I laughed, remembering his nervousness, the obviousness of his ploy.

Carol grinned with me. "Why, what did he say?"

"Oh, get this... he said my children had been at Rape Beach earlier this week, and he thinks they're going to be there again today, skipping school to get fucked by dozens of guys." I laughed again. "I'm almost embarrassed for him. Doesn't he know crowds are only on Fridays and Saturdays?" It was one of the rules that waxed and waned with time. You could be raped on the beach any time, of course, but having huge crowds of young men spending all their time on the beach, waiting to join in on an innocent doe-eyed girl or one of the sluts who liked a regular fucking, well, that started to be bad for town morale, so a few years ago, word went out, in the way word did, that on Fridays and Saturdays, Rape Beach can be party central, but the rest of the week, no waiting around. If you wanted to rape a girl on the other five days, you had to trick her there yourself.
Or so I thought. I guess word didn't spread as thoroughly as it used to. Carol filled me in, "Not any more. Unemployment's up, so guys have taken to loitering on the beach again."

"Uh-oh," I joked, still thinking Ray was making up the story about my kids. "Mothers, lock up your daughters."

Carol laughed. "Yeah, exactly." She took a sip of tea, and I took a sip of mine as she said, "But he wasn't lying about your kids, I've seen some of them down there."

I practically choked on my tea at that. No, it was no surprise that Carol had been down to Rape Beach. As I said, sometimes us girls just get in the mood for good, no-strings-attached, forceful sex that we can deny all responsibility for, and when that mood strikes, we'll sometimes allow ourselves to be lured down to Rape Beach. Lord knows I've done it plenty, and I knew Carol got that urge more often than she got periods. And I knew she wouldn't make something up, so she must have been telling the truth about seeing my kids down there. So I asked what seemed like the most important question at that moment. "Which ones?" The answer would make a big difference to what my reaction should be.
I had four children... my eldest, a fifteen year old girl, twin boys, aged fourteen, and another girl, twelve. Really, it's five if you count my niece, and you might as well, most people call her one of my kids, since she's practically a daughter. She's lived with me half her life, ever since she was six years old, and her eighteen-year-old mother dropped her off with me while she ran off to college and start a new life and never came back. "The kid's your fault anyway, you might as well take care of her," she said, the last time I saw her. So, sure, let's count my niece and say I had five kids, three of whom would be very rapeable.

The best case scenario was that Carol meant my boys. Boys are safe at Rape Beach, better than safe, many get their best chance at pussy there. So it's no wonder that boys try to find their way there the moment they start thinking about girls. Some even lure their mothers there, and Duane and Darryl certainly tried with me, but I wasn't born yesterday, and had a bit of a hang-up against incest. Not them, they were motherfuckers at heart if not in fact, and they were the primary reason I hadn't been down to Rape Beach in years, except once when I knew they were at school. Even that was a risk, my boys have been known to skip school, and where else might they go?

If she meant my boys, I wouldn't have been surprised at all. I guess, I must have known it all along. I didn't know how much time they spent there, and I didn't want to know... sometimes a blind eye is the best parenting strategy. I didn't even care if they raped Carol, though I'd hope she'd tell me. Or maybe she did. I'd thought back to last month she'd regaled me of how she was raped by two brothers, and both came inside her when she was at her most fertile time. Carol has more kids than I do, but unlike me she hates the idea of being a mommy... she likes getting pregnant, likes her boobs swelling up with milk, but doesn't want to deal with an actual baby, which would cramp her style. Instead, she gives them all up for adoption, to help childless couples, and since she only helps rich childless couples, she makes a pretty penny at it. Maybe in a couple years, my grandchildren would be given up to a good rich family. I wouldn't mind that at all... in fact, my boys being there, shooting their seed into Carol at every opportunity, that could be a good thing.

No, I suddenly realized, I couldn't be that lucky. Even if my boys were there, they couldn't be the only ones, that wasn't the kind of gossip that needed to be shared. Carol looked like the cat that ate the cream, and she only looked like that when she had juicy gossip, and since my boys being there wasn't juicy enough, that meant that at least one of the girls was there.

I prayed it wasn't my youngest, Lucy. She's just a doll, long dark hair, just like her mother, thin like a model, but just starting to get tiny pointy cone breasts and a shapely ass. She was growing up, but she would always be my little girl, and twelve was pretty young to be raped. Not that that would stop anyone at Rape Beach. There was an age limit in the informal rules, but it was ten, and she was two years past it. Even below that age, that just meant no force, statutory rape was still okay, but a young girl had a right to say no. Some young girls would take advantage of that rule, come out to Rape Beach and become little teases, giving blow jobs or allowing themselves to be fingered but saving their cherries. Some of them found it quite a surprise that the ten-year age limit was counted from the date of conception, not birth, just to deal with teases who thought they had a few months of safe tease time left. I knew Lucy wasn't one of those, and even knew that she still had her cherry as of two months ago when I did a check, but a lot of rape can happen in two months. I didn't want that to happen at her age, even if it was a welcome rape, and I had a feeling Lucy might not be the type to welcome rape. She just looked so innocent, and not just because she was young, she had those wide open eyes that looked like they'd never once narrowed in suspicion.

I didn't think it could be Lucy... she was supposed to be on a field trip today, and she was really excited about it, another innocent quality of hers, she loved learning. Still, things happened, field trips sometimes ended early and the students were allowed to go home, or anywhere else, instead of back to school, so for Lucy's sake, I prayed she was still visiting our state's historical landmarks.

If it was my eldest, Susan, well, I didn't like it, but I could be accept it. A lot of girls were tricked out to Rape Beach before they hit fifteen. Fifteen was practically a record among girls that looked as good as Susan. She was a born cheerleader, almost the Ultimate Cheerleader, except the Ultimate Cheerleader would probably be blonde, and Susan has light brown hair. Otherwise, she fit the cheerleader mold, long thin legs, tight waist, bouncy round boobs that seemed too big for the rest of her body, and a beautiful face that could turn from open and happy girl-next-door to slyly seductive in an instant, without even trying. That's due mostly to the lips, full and luscious, making a great wide smile or if closed looking like she's pouting and wanting something slipped in between them... she'd be a champion lollypop sucker, if they held competitions for that, and I'm sure watching her suck on a candy has inspired as many erotic thoughts as your average porn star. A guy would have to be gay to not think of her sucking their dick when they saw those lips. Even if she wasn't a ten in other areas, and she was, those dick-sucking lips made her a prime target for guys looking to trick a girl into going somewhere she'd get raped.

If Susan made it to fifteen before getting to Rape Beach, I could count myself as a good mother. Hell, she might even have wanted it. My big worry in that case was whether she got raped by Darryl and Duane... I didn't want her brothers raping her, and it could be a nightmare if they got her pregnant, but I also knew that if they were there the same time she was, they'd have given her a poke and a load just to fit in. Otherwise, I could live with it. I could even live with it if they just raped her mouth, which had to have been the first choice, I know they thought of it even though she was their sister. If Susan was there and there was no incest involved, I might just leave it at that... ground her for skipping school, sure, but let the rape be her decision to handle her own way.

Really, if it was going to be anybody, I hoped it was my niece Ella. That was okay. She wasn't even a virgin, so if she got tricked out to Rape Beach, or developed a taste for it, more power to her. Ella was a bit more of a bad kid, and she looked the part even when she was still an angel... dirty blonde hair and a mischievous smile, like she'd been doing something naughty and was just daring you to find out what. And she was no angel anymore, like her mother she was always a little tease, and she was always getting into trouble... innocent trouble, but trouble all the same. She trespassed on other people's properties, not to steal but just because she liked exploring, and I lost count of the times she skipped school to just go play. I wouldn't be surprised if somebody in the neighborhood suggested that Rape Beach was fun for playing or a great place she hadn't yet explored. Maybe my neighbor, one of the local bad boys she seemed to like hanging around, or even my dad, who had a secret perverted side but who I warned to stay away from Susan and Lucy on threat of me taking law into my own hands. Any of them could trick Ella there. I was confident my sons didn't trick her out there... they didn't have to, they could fuck her at home.

I guess I'm responsible for that. My hang-up against incest didn't extend past immediate family, so cousins were fair game, even if they lived in your house and were raised like a sister. I never said "Go ahead and fuck Ella," she was still under my care and I tried to be a good mother to her, but you don't have to use words to send a message. Whenever I caught my sons trying to suggest something sexual with one of their sisters, or even so much as being naked in front of one, I raised holy hell and spankings were meted out, and one time I dragged Duane off by an ear when I caught him with Lucy's hand on his dick... he didn't sit down to eat for a week. When I caught both of my sons fingering Ella at 9-years old, I just said, "You shouldn't do that, she's like a sister to you," but didn't punish them because they stopped as soon as I entered, and a year later, when I came home early and found the boys watching TV, and Ella with her lips wrapped around Duane's twelve-year-old dick, I just shook my head and told them he'd better not leave cum stains on my couch. Message sent, and message received. They knew I didn't like it, but I wouldn't interfere as long as they kept a lid on it. I guess I figured they were growing boys and if they didn't have some kind of outlet, they might resort to doing something with their sisters. It wasn't long before Ella stopped sharing a bed with Lucy and started sharing it with one or both of her cousins, cousins who were almost as close to her as brothers, but almost is an important word.

The first few times I heard the sounds of loud sex in my house, I came into my boys' room and saw either Darryl fucking Ella, Duane fucking Ella, or sometimes each of them taking a hole. Each time I said only three things. "Just checking to make sure you weren't doing anything wrong with your sisters," first, to make sure they knew that I was not being any more lax. Then I'd say, "You be careful not to get Ella pregnant or there'll be hell to pay. Cum in her ass or her mouth, but not her pussy." 'Hell to pay' was a euphemism for them getting a beating they'd remember. Finally, after watching for a while, I'd say, "Try to keep the noise level down, boys, your sisters don't need to be hearing all this sex stuff, they're too young for that, especially Lucy." Lucy was only a couple weeks older than Ella, but Lucy was my daughter, not my niece.

Lucy was still pure in my eyes and I wanted her to remain that way. Ella, yes, I could be okay with Ella being the one at Rape Beach. So I crossed my fingers and repeated the question, "Which ones?"

"That's no fun," Carol said, still grinning. "If you really want to know, why don't you go see for yourself? I'm pretty sure they're still there."

"Please, Carol," I said. "You're my friend. Don't play these games with me. You know I need to know. I'm their mother. Don't make me beg."

Her lips parted, showing teeth like a predator. "Ooh, begging, that's nice. I'll tell you what, I'll give you a name if you get down on your knees." She slid her chair to the side, out from under the table, and spread her legs. "Right here," she said.

I hesitated, but only for a second. I knew what she meant, of course. I'm just not a fan of pussy, except my own. I'm not saying I've never dipped my tongue into the pink taco, but it's just not my thing. I've got nothing against those who do... in fact, I'll let any girl who wants to eat me out chow down, just as long as they know I don't plan on returning the favor. Carol's a full-fledged bisexual, and takes advantage of my generosity when she's in the mood to feast on cunt, but has always teased me about being selfish afterwards, like she assumed that once she'd given me an orgasm or two that I'd change my mind.

I may not enjoy eating beaver, but I'll do it in a pinch, and in this case, finding out was worth a little humiliation. My only other alternatives were to go down and see for myself what was going on, or wait until my kids came home and try to sniff out the truth, and they might lie. Carol I could trust to tell the truth, even if I'd have to pay for it. So I nestled my face in between her thighs, seeing her shaved pussy in my face, the inner lips hanging outside like a flower and a little dark, giving her a well-used look, but not as well-used as it should look, considering how many heads pushed their way out of there over the years. She's the one who taught me about Kegel exercises. I closed my eyes, pushed forward and gave her a long lick up and down and said, "Now will you tell me?"

"Oh, that's nice," Carol said. "But not enough. I'll make you a deal, you put your tongue inside me, and I'll keep talking until you stop wiggling it around. How do you like that?" I didn't, but in for a penny... my tongue worked that flower open and began tasting the salty, tangy, and slightly bitter insides, and Carol kept her promise and did indeed begin to talk. "Well, where do I begin. I said I'd give you a name, so I'll give you two. But I'm going to be a bitch and give you the ones you've already guessed. Your sons, Darryl and Duane, were definitely among the crowd there today, but they weren't the only ones." I prayed again it would be Ella, unsure if God was more or less likely to answer prayers given while I was French-kissing my best friend's womb. If Pastor Gideon was anything to go by, God was a pervert. He probably banned homosexuality just so He could enjoy a little taboo now and then. Pastor Gideon used just that argument when he made a little girl still trying to deal with the conflicting emotions of her first rape receive oral sex from his wife while he masturbated on the other side of the confessional wall (we're Lutherans, but our confessional looks pretty much like the Catholic style you're all familiar with).

If God was a pervert, Carol probably wanted to please him too, but mostly she was pleasing herself by drawing out her story as much as possible, and so she kept talking about my boys so my tongue would be where she wanted it. "They've been coming to Rape Beach for a while, and coming in me whenever I'm there. I often drive them down there, because it's quite a walk, and then they rape me. It was so cute the first time, they were all nervous and tried to convince me they were collecting seashells for a school project. I had to play dumb, like I didn't already know what trail we were heading down. Do you taste them, by the way? It was a busy day on the beach today, and they only raped me two hours ago, and I wasn't the main event, so if you taste a little spermy aftertaste on my cunt, it's from your sons. Well, one of your sons. To be honest, I can't remember which of them came down my throat and which was in my pussy, they look so much alike" My tongue stopped, in shock. I had noticed the taste, and assumed it was from some random guy... not Ray, she made her husband wear condoms. "This is the only time I'm going to warn you, if your tongue doesn't get moving again I'm going to stop talking, and once I stop, I won't start up again."

I took the hint, and got into motion, trying not to think that what I was tasting came out of my sons cocks. That wasn't easy, because Carol kept talking about it. "I'm so happy you don't mind the taste of your sons. To be honest, I was starting to feel bad lying to them all the time. I used to tell them that I had you eat me out all the time, and that you especially liked the taste of my cunt after they came in it. They think that whenever we have tea, you're eating me out and drinking their cum. Those boys seriously have a complex, they want to fuck Mommy soooo bad. They're different though, Darryl wants to fuck you tenderly, like a lover, Duane wants to rape you. Darryl would rape you too, but only if he can't get you to give it up. Darryl is the reason you haven't been raped at home, he's holding Duane back, but I think he's weakening on that. He wants to fuck Mommy so bad. If you go out to Rape Beach, they'll both be happy to fuck you, because Darryl will tell himself that you wanted it, and proved it by stepping on the beach, and you just don't want to admit it, and Duane will just have license to push you down and stick it in.

I reached beneath myself and felt for my panties while I licked, not to masturbate, but when you're kneeling sometimes you develop an itch. I didn't want to pleasure myself, I didn't even want to act like a lesbian, I just kept doing it, wanting Carol to just get to the point. Which of my daughters were there?

Carol wouldn't let up about my sons, though. "Those boys cum a lot. And usually they both like to cum in my pussy at least once, knowing I'll be seeing you for tea, and then they can imagine you lapping up their cum. This time though, whichever one I was giving a blowjob too got a little too excited too fast, and I had to drink it all. Come to think of it, that would probably make it Darryl I blew. Normally he'd just wait a bit and fuck me again, but there's a big day planned at Rape Beach and he wanted to save his next load." What big day? What was planned? I wanted to ask, wanted to shout, but to do that I'd have to rest my tongue a second and that would make Carol clam up tighter than a virgin's pussy, so I had to listen to her drone on. "So that would make it Duane's cum you're tasting right now, the wannabe Mommy-rapist."

My hand found its way underneath my panties and I started rubbing up along the crack. I knew Carol would think I was getting into the lesbian sex, but the truth was worse, the thought of Duane wanting to rape me, his own mother, was starting to turn me on, and Carol wasn't helping by providing more details on what they wanted. "To be honest, I don't know how you do it. Those two young studs living with you? If I was their Mommy, I'd have let them fuck me years ago, or bent down in front of Duane in a short skirt and no panties until he couldn't take it anymore and raped me. Or maybe I'd give it away to Duane and force Darryl to man up and take it. When he's got his cock in me, he sometimes calls me Mommy, you know that? Duane calls me 'bitch', and 'slut', but I'd like to think that's just how he is, that he'd call you that while he was fucking you." I groaned into her hole, rubbing my slick cunt vigorously as I imagined both scenarios, not sure which I liked more. "And they're so fucking good. I mean, they've got practically ten-inch dicks already, and they're only fourteen! With a plump little head that makes you really feel it when it goes in, especially in an ass-fucking. How could any woman resist that, even if it were her own sons. I can only think of one reason you might. You know, don't you?" Know what? What else was there? "Do you? Wiggle your head side to side or up and down, just tell me, you know, right?" I didn't know, at least I didn't think I did, so I shook my head rapidly, my nose rubbing up against her clit. "You don't know? How could you not know that both of your little boys not only want to fuck Mommy, they want to knock Mommy up."

Oh god. That was one of my big fears, one of the reasons I'd tried to stay away from Rape Beach. Too often I'd gotten myself raped and gotten pregnant off it. I'd already had five kids, from three pregnancies, I didn't want to get another... or did I? Maybe that was part of the reason I let the boys have their fun with Ella, because if there was a mistake and one of her eggs caught, I could have the joy of another baby without doing the work myself. Just as long as it wasn't an incest baby (cousins don't count, remember)... and if my boys got me pregnant, that's exactly what it would be.

Why did it get me so excited? I couldn't help it. I finger-fucked myself, imagining it was them, wishing fingers would squirt so I could imagine more vividly. That was the real reason I was so tough on incest, I think, I knew if I let myself slip, let my kids slip, it would inevitably lead to a constant incest orgy and sooner or later I'd cave on pregnancy too. I thought right then, that if they were there at that moment, I'd let them have a crack at me, and hated myself for my weakness.

"It's probably a good thing I've never decided to stay a Mommy, I'd be a real bad one, but I might have to if they knock me up, not many rich white families want a baby with a little black in them. If they get me pregnant, I might have to keep it, and then I'd have to be a very bad mommy to your grandkid." It was a trick, to get me to say something and stop licking, but I didn't fall for it, and she recognized it. "You've been very good," Carol said, just after I gave her a long lick on the outside that made her shudder. "So I'll answer another question. Your niece Ella's also been at Rape Beach, for about a week from what I hear. Don't worry, she doesn't mind, that girl took to rape like a duck to water. You'd think she'd done it before. She's very popular both with the boys and girls, when I saw her there, the Pastor had her eat me out while he fucked her, and she did a pretty good job, better than you, and she had to work around one of your sons cocks."

"Of course, I first saw her there two days ago, so maybe you'd say she'd just been gotten used to it, you know, if it's going to happen, might as well enjoy it, but I have my sources that say she was like that from day one. Eager and ready to serve. Not like poor Susan, she needed to be held down. Oh, dear, I'd meant to hold that back a little longer, but you're doing such a good job. Yes, Susan was there too that day. Can you believe it was her first time ever at Rape Beach? At fifteen. I was there at eight, you were, what, twelve? If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were raising her to be a prude.

"She certainly acted like a prude for her first rape, crying. I was ten when I first got actually raped... well, nine and three months... but even I didn't cry like that. It was a little embarrassing, frankly. I mean, she's a cheerleader, I know she's fucked most of the football team, not all at once, mind you, but it's not that different... some of those guys are forceful. The girls can be even worse, if you won't play ball, but I made sure she'd play ball. I've always tried to set a good example for her. I know I'm not her mother, or even a relative, but I'm her mother's best friend, and that's kind of like an aunt, and she comes to me for stuff she doesn't feel comfortable addressing with you. Like when the other cheerleaders were hazing her and I taught her that the quickest way to acceptance was learning how to eat pussy. I made sure she got lots of practice at that until she could do it just right.

"Of course, I have to hand it to her, even if she cried during that first rape, she did come back today. It was her second day, and you know the rules. The first time you wind up on Rape Beach, they take your clothes away and you walk home naked, if you don't have a charming neighbor on hand to drive you home. No reason to let you know if she didn't want that. She wasn't going to be able to hide it today. The second time, you'll remember, they not only take your clothes, but write all over you in permanent marker so you can't even hide it. I would have given her a drive again today, but I had an appointment with you, so I couldn't."

The thought of my Susan with filthy language written all over her body made me simultaneously cringe and shudder with enjoyment. When I got mine, they left the face alone, but for two days I couldn't wear skirts without anybody who could read being able to read directions to the local cum dump (and it was never very far). And Susan was a cheerleader with a game tomorrow. Skirts were mandatory, whether you had writing on or not. Cheerleaders had to be very careful, they could go to Rape Beach once, but if they wanted to go a second time they'd have to plan their schedules carefully or the whole town would know. There were always two communities in our town, the ones who went to Rape Beach, and the ones who disapproved of it but couldn't stop it. If you went twice and were caught out at it, you were condemned as a stupid whore by both groups. Forget getting a good job in town without getting down on your knees for it. That's part of why my sister decided to leave and seek her fortunes elsewhere.

"I know what you're thinking," Carol said. "You're wondering why your daughter Susan would go for a second night at Rape Beach knowing that's what they do. And believe me, she knew, I told her on the ride home the first night. Part of it was I think she wanted to come out to you. She's sick of pretending she's as pure as you want her to be, that she's not the type of girl who'd go to Rape Beach or suck a little brother's cock for some of his allowance, and what better way to do that than to show up at home naked with a tally written on her ass and another on her pussy? But she might have taken a few weeks to get up the courage to do that, if it wasn't for today. Today's a very special day at Rape Beach." I interrupted her with an interrogatory noise through the flesh of her labia. "Oh, you want to know what it is?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

"I'm sorry, was that a yes or a no? Answer me the same way as before, tongue up my cunt, nose on my clit, and with a clear, unambiguous head-wiggle." I complied, centered my head in the way she wanted to, and then with tongue buried in her hole, did my best to give her a nod she could understand. It still took three attempts. "Okay, if you really want to know, I'll tell you. But only after you make me cum."

With a mental sigh, I went to work rapidly, and when she started breathing heavily I pulled my wriggling tongue out of her hole and sucked on her clit like it was a tiny little penis, just the way the Pastor's wife instructed me years ago. Carol began to buck rapidly, her arms and legs twitching everywhere.

When the spasms stopped, she lay there in bliss, and finally I was able to pull free. My jaw was getting sore. "So?"

"So what?"

"You promised to tell me."

"Oh, right. Well, today's a special day at Rape Beach, because there's a busload full of middle schoolers, half boys and half girls on their way home from a field trip, who got a little lost and stopped on Rape Beach for directions. I believe that's your daughter's Lucy's class."

That's the kind of news that will get a protective mother on her feet and out the door, stopping only long enough to get a gun. I wasn't quite that protective, and didn't know any woman who was when it came down to it, but even with me, I got up and out the door without even bothering to clean Carol's vaginal juices off my face. I was halfway to my car when Carol followed me and suggested that she drive me, that I was so anxious I'd be liable to crash into something on the way.

She was right, but riding with her presented other problems, she might drive right on to the beach or get lost so as to give more time to the rapists, or try to get me worked up with filthy stories. Still, none of those were as big a risk as dying in a car accident, so I got into her car with her and found out that she went with option three. All through the drive up to the beach, she told me about the things my boys had done to her or done to Susan, or the guy who'd done Susan while Carol was underneath. I spent half the ride with one hand hidden in my cunt, but we did arrive on the edge of the beach, and we made good time with no diversions.

I hadn't been to the beach in years, but it was as busy as I'd ever seen it, and the bus right in the middle of the beach was new. I could see some timid faces inside, faces pressed to the glass, watching the people outside, the girls outside to be exact. There were plenty of twelve-year-old boys outside, but they were watching or participating in the rapes.

I couldn't see Lucy or Ella at first, there was too much going on, it was a sea of naked flesh and debauchery. There was a crowd around a picnic table, with one man at one head thrusting his hips into what must have been a girl from the bus, judging by her pale little legs. Another girl, one of Lucy's friends, was tied up on that old telephone pole. I had fond memories of that pole, back when the telephone still worked, they often had me phone my mother while I was being raped and I had to tell her what they were doing to me. I didn't have to make the call, they offered me the choice on that, but I wanted the ride home, and they wouldn't leave me with change to make the call after we were done. Besides, I knew Mom got off on hearing the details, she wouldn't make her way over here until she was satisfied I really was being raped and not just trying to trick her, and that only happened after she'd given herself an orgasm.

I wondered what happened to the Rape Calls. The phone no longer worked, but cell phones were everywhere, surely some mothers still got them. Why didn't I get one? I guess my girls didn't want to make that call... Susan, especially. Did she think I wouldn't understand? Or maybe it was just because Carol was already going to be her ride. It suddenly seemed so unfair that I was denied this courtesy, if my daughter had to be raped you'd think I could listen in on her first time.

I was still on the fringes of the beach, technically not fair game, but there were some guys waiting and watching. They were young guys, about eighteen, and I didn't recognize them. Maybe they were tourists, or, more likely, they were the children of people I didn't know, who'd come of age since I'd last frequented the beach. "Good, more girls," one said. "The ratio's good with that bus out there, but it could always be better."

"Hey Carol," said the other. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, this is the mother of some of the kids over there."

The first man whistled and waved towards the crowd. "We got a momma over here!"

"Well, come on, find your daughter," someone suggested. "She's probably here somewhere, just come for a closer look." He grinned eagerly, just waiting for me to take up the bait.

To get a closer look, I'd have to step on the sand, and then be manhandled. Was there any chance this was all a trick? I wondered. If Carol had lied and my kids weren't here, I had to hand it to her, this was the best prank ever. I could forgive that, even if the prank got me raped and pregnant.

That dream faded as finally I caught sight of Ella first, she was riding on the shoulders of a man I later recognized as her History teacher. She wasn't being raped, she looked like she was having fun that was totally rape-free. I knew then why, on her second day on Rape Beach, whenever it was, that she didn't come home with slut-graffiti, why she was being treated like a queen. She was a Judas Goat.

It's just one of those things about the place, sometimes even on Rape Beach you can be treated like royalty, with promises of good behavior. A promise to return is a start, it doesn't get you out of anything but it makes the guys more likely to try and give you orgasms. A promise to lure somebody else is better, and when that promise is fulfilled, you can be queen of the beach, helping to direct the rapes, even getting a ride home.

I played Judas Goat before, too late to miss out on my graffiti marks, but in an attempt to get out of another pregnancy. I was itching for another hard-fucking of the kind I'd only found on the beach, but after two pregnancies, and three kids, I was terrified I would wind up pregnant again at only eighteen. I gave in to my urges, and found myself on the beach, at the riskiest time of the month, and also found myself ready to promise anything if only they wouldn't cum in my pussy. I tried everything, offering to be their personal anal sex slave, even in town, offering to give them pictures of me they could spread around, but what finally did the trick was telling them I'd bring my sister for them the next time. When I mentioned her, that she was only twelve, they stopped fucking and started asking questions, and when I described her and told them she was still virgin in all her holes, as best as I knew, they agreed, they'd cum in my ass or down my throat.

Well, my plan didn't work as intended. I brought my sister the next night, of course, there was no doubt about that. If I tried to renege, they'd have found me in town, and done their best to get me pregnant. So I told my innocent little sister that I was going to take her to the fair, and instead we went to the beach, where apparently each of the three guys raping me had told ten friends about who I was bringing.... at only twelve, my little sis was a notorious prick-tease already. Well, on Rape Beach, girls don't get the option of getting a guy all worked up and then saying no when he suggests they actually do something they've been talking about. We both got pregnant that night, because there were limits to the leeway a Judas Goat got you. Sure, they let me have first crack at my sister's mouth whenever I wanted it, but a Queen of Rape Beach is still on Rape Beach, and can't avoid getting fucked, or avoid getting a load of cum in her if she didn't have anything better to promise for next time, and that's a tall order, especially with thirty guys and only two girls. All it takes is one sperm to impregnate, and at least one must have slipped through, even though I made my sister suck my cunt after every guy was finished, until I was sure I was clean... why, she probably drank more cum from me than she did from the thirty men.

There were more guys here now, but the ratio was probably less intense. Still, there were enough with free cocks that there was no reason for Ella to be riding on a guy's shoulders and not somewhere else. That's why I knew without a doubt at that point that Ella got Susan to the beach, and suspected she had a hand in getting Lucy here, too. The history teacher who was giving her a piggyback ride was also the chaperone to the trip to one of our state's historical sites that Lucy was on, the one that ended into a very hands-on history lesson in our town's most notorious historical site.

Ella shouted out, "Hey, guys, Mom's here!" and that's when I saw my two sons walking out from behind a crowd, along with Susan. The three of them were watching a few couples seated on beach towels, and as one of them stood up, I recognized him. It was Mick, aka Slick Mick with the Thick Dick, a mainstay on Rape Beach. His nickname was accurate too, he didn't have the longest cock, but it made up for it in girth. In fact, many thought he was perfect for younger girls, because, once he got it in, he could get it all in without bumping into the cervix, and completely stretch out a hole to make her comfortable with anybody that came after. For anal sex he might present a problem, at least for a first timer, for whom long and thin would be more the order of the day, but he filled young cunts very comfortably.

I knew Mick well, he'd had me many times. In fact, there was about a 10% chance he was Susan's father, and a 1 in 30 that he was Ella's or Lucy's. There was no chance he was the father of my boys, unless two thoroughly white people could produce half-black babies, but he was one of the men who fucked me on the night they were conceived, too. I recognized him from behind at first, but when he turned around I finally learned where my little Lucy was, she was riding his erection.

No, I don't mean they were having sex. I mean she was literally riding his dick. He held her up against his chest and his huge member was between her legs, like a little seat. She was completely naked. The group soon came for my part of the beach, but the crowd they left remained... there were other girls doing more interesting things on the towels.

"Hi, Mom," Duane said. "Come on to the beach, join the fun."

"I'm not going to do that," I said firmly. "I know very well what will happen if I set foot on the beach. Now I want you to get your sisters and come with me."

"No way," Ella said, on top her history teacher's shoulders. "We're having too much fun. Even Lucy's starting to get into it."

Lucy turned her head towards me and she looked worried. "Mom, he says he's going to stick his thing in me. I mean just look at it, it'll never fit."

So she still hadn't been fucked, they were just warming her up. I wondered a bit by the slick wetness around her legs, could have been boy juices or girl juices, and it looked like it was a healthy helping of girl juice. That was a nice thing about Mick, he did like to get girls warmed up. "I know dear, if it comes to that, I'm sure it will fit if you just relax."

Her eyes widened. "You're just going to let him do it?"

"I don't want him to, but I don't see how I can stop him." Not without crossing over to the beach.

"You could come over and hit me," Mick suggested. "I'd have to let her go to defend myself, and your little girl might just make it to the edge of the beach if she runs."

I thought about it, but even if he let go, there was a good chance that one of my own sons would grab her before she got off the beach. And, let's face it, there was another reason, one I wasn't prepared to admit... I wanted to see it happen. The genie was out of the bottle, Lucy had already felt a warm and willing tongue between her legs, and if I saved her from a rape this time it would only be so she could sneak back here another and find out if a thick cock felt as good as a tongue. If it was going to happen, I wanted to watch. I didn't want any of my kids to know that bit of motherly weakness though, so I said, "I'm sorry, but I know the rules better than anybody... if I set foot onto the beach, I'm going to be raped. And Carol says you boys are eager to do it."

"It's true, Mom," Duane said. "We are going to rape you the first chance we get, assuming we get that chance. But if not, Mick's going to rape Lucy. I don't think you have any virtue left, but you've spent so much effort ensuring Lucy remains pure, why quit now?"

"I'm sorry," I said again. "I'm so sorry, Lucy. I'm sure it won't be so bad."

"Well, if that's out of the way," Mick said, "I've held off long enough. Are you ready to be raped by Slick Mick's Thick Prick?"

"Not really," Lucy said. "It's just so big. How is it going to fit?"

"We'll find a way. Will you boys help hold down your sister?"

They didn't need to be asked twice. Each of my twin boys grabbed one arm and one leg, and held my littlest girl in the air for a moment, then dropped her to the sand. Mick stepped in between her splayed legs and rubbed his glans up and down her crack. "I don't know about this," Lucy said, starting to sound really panicked. "I didn't mind drinking all that cum, but this is too big. Mom? Mom? You're not going to stop it?"

Mom didn't answer. Mom was too busy standing on her tiptoes at the edge of the beach, straining for the best possible view of her daughter's rape. Sure, she was scared, and he was big, but the vagina is a very stretchy organ, and I thought he could get inside. "Just relax and try to enjoy it," I suggested.

Cock head went to cunt hole and needed to wriggle just to get room enough to enter and begin stretching. Her bald cunt then extended around that head as he pushed forward. After a bit of instruction from Mick, one of my boys lifted Lucy up in the air by her shoulder a couple feet off the ground, which should have given me an even better view... but then some fuckhead got in the way. It was the teacher, the one who Ella rode the shoulders of, blocking my view of my youngest daughter's first rape.

I moved to get a new perch, there was a rock, still on the grassy side of the beach line, still safe, and gave me a little height and a better angle. I climbed that rock and to get the maximum view, stood on my tiptoes, leaning dangerously over the line but it was the only way to get the view I wanted, and, anyway, I hadn't set foot on the beach, dangling over it was still safe.

At least, it would have been safe, if not for Carol. That so-called friend of mine did the rottenest thing and took advantage of my tiptoed state and brushed the sole of my left foot with a blade of grass. I've got ticklish feet, always have, and although the grass didn't make me laugh, it startled and shocked me and put me off balance, and I was balancing on a knife edge as it was. My foot tried to get away from the ticklish plant and the only way to do that was forward, and once it was on its way forward, the rest of my body followed, forward and down. Three stumbling steps onto the beach led to a face-first tumble.

"Mom's on the beach!" Carol shouted, and the call was echoed by my sons. They dropped their little sister who fell to the sand, dragging Slick Mick down by his thick dick, buried halfway into her.

I no longer worried about getting a good view of the coupling, I had my own problems to deal with. Before I could even pull myself into a sitting posture, my own sons were pawing at me, taking indecent gropes while doing their best to make me indecent in appearance. My top was pulled over my head. I lifted my arms to help it go off, but I really didn't have much choice, to fight that it would have kept my arms busy, and I was too busy trying to keep my skirt. If that went, they'd see I wasn't wearing panties, and that I was wet as fuck, and when that happened, there went any moral authority. Getting the top off quickly so I could hold on to my skirt seemed like the only option. "Please don't do this boys, I'm your mother," I begged as my hardened nipples were exposed to my boys for the first time since they stopped nursing.

"At home you're our mother, but here you're just another bitch on Rape Beach," Duane said, grabbing a handful of tit while using his other hand to pull at my skirt. I tried to pull it on. Darryl was watching, not helping either of us, but staring at my tits. Duane looked at him and said, "Hold her arms, Darryl, so we can get access to this hot bitch's pussy."

He did, my shy sensitive boy fell to his feet at the instructions of his more dominant twin brother, pulled my arms over my head and held them together. Now Duane had no trouble with my skirt. He pulled it up first, and then decided to go the other way and pulled it down my legs... but he wouldn't pull it all the way, he left it tangled up on my feet, making a restraint all its own.

"Please," I said again.

"Sounds like she wants it," little Ella said. Riding on that teacher's shoulder, her head was a silhouette that blocked out the sun. "Looks like it, too. I told you the she'd be wet when the time came. Come on, let's take her where everyone else can see her getting off on her own sons raping her."

With one son holding my feet and another on my arms, I was hoisted into the air and unable to fight back. They carried me, dangling, defenseless, down the beach. We stopped by Lucy first. Slick Mick's dick was buried to the hilt as they lay together in the sand. "Looks like you got what you wanted," she said to the boys.

"Looks like you did too," Ella joked.

Lucy grinned. "I can't believe he fit. I'm so glad you convinced me to let Darryl and Duane stretch me out first."

Despite my own predicament, I gaped at the revelation. "You're not a virgin?"

"Not for a few hours. Ella and I were first ones off the bus. She said it would be fun." She grinned as Mick shoved all the way into her once more. "Boy was she ever right."

"Then why did you ask me to stop them..."

"Sorry Mom, I guess that was a mean trick, but Ella really wanted you on the beach. We all did, actually."

I'd expected betrayal from my boys, but from my girls, it hurt. "Why?"

"Well, Darryl and Duane both wanted to fuck you. They talk about it all the time. For weeks now they've been fucking my butt and pretending it's yours."

"You're not an anal virgin either?" I asked, shocked.

"Not any kind now, but before today I was just one kind, the one that counts. I didn't want to be, but Ella said I needed to be raped the first time, and she was right, it was sooo much better."

"I don't think it's rape if you go looking for it."

"Oh I knew it would be coming, but not when. I didn't want to be raped, either, not really. I thought rape was bad, I always heard about it in the news and it sounded bad, Ella used to say there was bad rape and there was fun rape, and I didn't believe her until today. I didn't want to be a virgin anymore, but I wanted to lose it to somebody I loved. Stupid, huh?"

"That's not stupid, that's the way it should be..." I looked to Ella, who was smiling smugly. "How could you do this to her?"

"Why not?" she asked. "What's wrong with giving her a good time? See, I used to be mad at you."

"What for?"

"Because you said I was like a daughter to you but you treated me and Lucy way different. You remember that time you checked her hymen a couple months ago? Talking about what a proper young lady she was becoming and how good it was that she still had it? I got so mad when I saw that. You sure didn't care about my cherry. You pretty much gave mine away. You didn't want Lucy to fuck Darryl and Duane, but it was okay for me to. You didn't even try to stop them. Then I realized... what was I getting all bent out of shape for? I loved fucking. Who doesn't love fucking, right? You might have thought you were treating me worse than your daughter, but you were really treating me better. And we might not actually be sisters, but I love Lucy like a sister, so I needed to start treating her like one and sharing, giving her what I was getting and she was missing. Getting Darryl and Duane to throat-fuck her and ass-fuck her was easy as pie, I just had to tell her how good it was. But she still had this virginity fixation thanks to you, so that took me weeks to work on. Finally I thought about Rape Beach, tried it out myself, and thought it would be the perfect way to get rid of it and make us all even.

"Of course, when I told your sons, they insisted I get you involved, and that we rape Susan first. They've been eager to get at her since they started masturbating, but you put a scare into her, too. Her cherry hadn't bothered her for years, but incest still did. So I invited her to the beach to get raped. Her brothers held her down and had the first crack at her. The big surprise was her coming back on her own again yesterday. See, this is actually her third time here... I had to do some quick thinking to keep from blowing the whole thing and having her come home with rape graffiti yesterday. I'd already promised to bring Lucy to get out of getting them myself. To get Susan out of it I had to get my whole class here."

"It was a brilliant idea," her teacher said. "Surprised we never thought of it before. Ella didn't really make it happen, we did that without her, but the idea counted for a lot. Enough to make her Queen of Rape Beach."

"The real trick was getting you here right on time. Luckily Carol was willing to help after I told her what I wanted and ate her out a lot. After today, everybody will be even," Ella said. "All of us have been raped by the boys. So we can just have fun. All that's left is for your rape." She looked at my sons and says, "Okay, have at her. Mr. Woods, you can fill my cunt with cum so she has something to drink after the rape."

I was dropped to the sand again and this time turned around to lie on my back as each of my sons took their turn in me. One held my arms down while the other fucked me. Duane was first, and Darryl held me gently, but firmly, keeping me steady but doing his best not to hurt me. Duane fucked like a jackrabbit, hard and fast until he pulled out and stuck his spewing cock in my mouth. It went so far down my throat I practically gagged, and it didn't help that he was flooding me with cum. When it was Darryl's turn, everything was reversed. The loving was slow and relaxed, but Duane's fingers dug tightly into my wrists, and every so often he slapped my tits and called me a bitch, whore, or slut.

Darryl didn't pull out. When he was done, he pushed in, all the way in, making my eyes bug out as he must have hit my cervix, and then his body went rigid while his dick spasmed a little. A minute later, he relaxed, making a pillow of my ample chest.

Lucy gave me my promised drink soon after that, more cum, fresh from her cunt. I made a face and pretended I didn't like it, but I licked and tried to stave off an orgasm.

I couldn't hold out that long. After my sons were done, some guy flipped me over and told me to get on my hands and knees, and he fucked my ass until I came. I don't know if it was the feel of his dick up my shithole or that I could finally get a glimpse of what was happening elsewhere. I saw Susan in the center of a circle-jerk of twelve-year-old boys, her mouth open to accept two hard little cocks, like fleshy pencils, but already leaking precum. I saw Carol licking Lucy's cunt while the Pastor fucked her. The pastor fucked Lucy, I mean, I didn't know the guy fucking Carol.

It was hard to keep track of all that was happening, but I got fucked by at least five more guys in the first hour, mostly in my ass. It was a busy day, as busy as I'd ever seen it, and apparently even with a bus half-full of girls, there were still people waiting. Me and Carol added two new cunts and six more usable holes to the beach, which improved the guy-girl ratio even more, but it was going to get worse before it would get better. Almost every girl with a cell-phone in her purse had it taken out and used to call home and report a rape in progress, proving that the rape calls weren't gone, just a new tradition, the call home came on your own cell-phone, and I never gave my kids one to call home on. Fathers, older brothers, sometimes uncles got these calls, as did mothers, sisters and aunts, but men seemed to arrive first. Not out of a desire to rescue their kinfolk, this was a town where everybody knew everybody and anyone who was likely to have rescue on the mind simply didn't get a call in the first place, everybody who got the courtesy of the rape call either knew how to let it happen without interference or wanted to join in, and the ones who raced to the beach were doing so to join in on a hole once considered taboo. No taboos on Rape Beach... if a father caught his daughter there, he could rape her before she left and it became taboo again. If a father with incest on his mind found out his daughter was there, he raced over there as fast as the speed limit would allow so he could get there before it was too late. Some even raced faster, but they faced hefty fines and the possibility of a lost license... law enforcement in our town doesn't fuck around with something as serious as speeding.
Mothers, aunts, and sisters would come too, but slower, always obeying the speed limit and maybe even going a little slower. They were either coming with the expectation of getting raped alongside whoever placed the call, or watching from the sidelines and offering the rapee a ride home and comforting shoulder to cry on. Anyone who was a fence sitter usually slipped off the fence and onto the beach.

By the time the sun went down, it seemed like half the town was there on the beach, and about a quarter of that half getting raped or having been raped, the rest doing the raping or patiently waiting their turn. That was probably an exaggeration, but my holes were raw and full of cum from at least twenty different guys, and that was an understatement. Sundown also marked the chance for escape, for anyone who wanted it and who wasn't currently in use. The bus rode out at sundown with just two girls who held on to their principles and stayed off the beach, three who were naked and leaking sperm but who didn't have rides home already there, and a few guys who were exhausted and spent and bribed the driver for a lift back. Also at sundown, I managed to get to Carol's car and crawl in the back to take a nap until she woke me up when she opened the door and ushered the rest of my family, sleepy and all fucked out, inside for the long-overdue drive home.

After that day, I made a big mistake. I treated what happened there as any other day at Rape Beach... don't address it, don't talk about, don't punish it. Treat the people who got me there as though they were as innocent as the law would assume. My own sons raped me and their sisters and I didn't punish it, because it was one of those things that happen on Rape Beach.

Except, the rules of Rape Beach are only about how the authorities react. These were my children, and when I didn't punish, I sent another signal. This one said, "It's okay to rape Mommy, she won't tell," and they read that signal and a little more, or a little less. Maybe all the signal they needed to read is "Mommy won't tell". Won't tell, and won't do a thing about it. They realized, even before I did, that if I wasn't going to punish my sons in my home for their behavior on Rape Beach, I certainly wasn't going to turn them in to the police, even when it didn't happen on Rape Beach.

I realized that the next weekend. After spending a few days walking on eggshells waiting for me to act like a mom and punish, they came to their realization and, while I was bending over to set the dinner table, I felt a firm hand on my back, holding me down, and my son's bulge through his pants. "Duane," I said in a whisper. "You can't do this."

He pulled up my skirt, and down went my underwear. "Sure I can, Mom. I got a huge hardon, can't you feel it?" With one hand, he unzipped his pants and I felt it even better, I felt the warmth through his underwear.

I halfheartedly tried to slap backwards at him, until I saw Susan enter out of the corner of my eye. "Susan, help pull your brother off me."

"Susan, Mom's being a bitch, please hold her arms down so I can shove my cock up her shit-pipe?" Duane said. My daughter put down her glass and sided with brother who'd been the first one to rape her after she came to Rape Beach. As she held my wrists, Duane wet his dick in my slick, quivering cunt, and then withdrew so he could stick it up my tight butthole.

I'm not proud about it, but I came several times from that rough treatment, and more from the knowledge that if it was happening here at home, it was going to keep happening, Duane would keep raping me, if nobody else, and wouldn't ever let up... and that knowledge made me cum again and again. I guess you're not surprised, if I didn't get off on rape, I wouldn't have so many children, but can you imagine how totally debased I felt when I came several times from my son raping my ass? Worse, with my daughter laughing and pointing out every orgasm.

After my son finally filled my ass with a load of cum that dribbled down to my cunt, I learned I was right... my rapes, and my orgasms, were just beginning. Duane called Lucy into the room and pushed her down behind my legs and told her to lick up the mess. I squirmed as my youngest daughter's tongue lapped up all the cum that leaked out of my ass and quivered when she took care of the dribble on my pussy. That wasn't lesbian rape, not in my book, it's only rape when you're forced into giving someone an orgasm, if you're just receiving one, even if you have to be held down by one son and one daughter to do it, it's just rambunctiousness.

Lesbian rape was coming, though, because I was pulled away from the table and over to the couch. There, Susan and Lucy both lesbian-raped me until they got off.

That night, as I lay alone in my bed, I heard the creak of my door and knew another rape was in the offing. I didn't turn to see who it was, but as soon as he slid in behind me and I felt the swell of his cock against my legs, I knew it was one of my boys. From the gentle, tentative touch, I guessed it was Darryl. "I was wondering when you'd come take your turn to rape Mommy," I whispered.

"I'm not taking my turn," he said softly, his arms wrapping around my waist, hands cradling my boobs. "Not for rape. I love you, Mom, and I'm never going to rape you. I just want to sleep with you. If you'll let me, I want to make love to you, too, but not until you say it's okay."

"What about Rape Beach? You didn't have any compunctions against rape there."

"Even on Rape Beach, in my head, I was making love to you, not raping you. Maybe I was fooling myself, but I wanted it so badly. Now that I've had it, I can wait. Send me away and I'll go. You'll hurt my feelings, but I'm a big boy now." His pick slid up against the bottom of my crack, demonstrating how big. "If you let me stay, I'll probably get cum all over your sheets, but I won't put any of it inside you until you tell me it's okay. That's a promise."

I slid away from him and then turned around and faced him, looking into his eyes. He seemed so sincere. "So, what, you're going to be the good son from now on?" I asked. "My knight in shining armor?"

"No, I'm no saint. I'm not going to stop the others from raping you if that's what you're asking. I can't go against my family any more than you can. Today was only the beginning, they're going to keep raping you, you're still our mother but they've decided that you're also the family sextoy, to play with as they want. They might even invite some friends over to play with you and the other girls. By now everyone knows you aren't going to go to the cops, and that makes this whole house an extension of Rape Beach. I won't protect you from any of that, but I will come and hold you after and sleep with you and, if you let me, make love to you. I'll make you feel like a Mommy again, and more... I'll try to make you feel like a beautiful, desirable woman again, not just like an object. A woman who has the right to be begged, and to say no. So I'm begging, Mommy, can I please fuck you?" He sucked on one of my nipples, apparently needing no permission for that. "Please?" he said again.

I couldn't resist, my heart melted. Darryl always was so sweet. "Well, I guess, if you promise to pull out."

His lips left my nipple once more and turned away from me, lying on his back. "I can't make that promise. I'll have to wait until you don't make me promise that. That's the best part, the part I want most. It's my only demand."

"Demand?"

"When we discussed it, all of us. I agreed to let the rapes go on, I'll even help hold you down if you resist, but I get to be the only one who cums in your pussy, at least until you get pregnant."

"Pregnant?"

"I told you I wanted to make you feel like a Mommy, and what better way than to make you one for real? We already threw out your birth control. This was going to happen either way, but I campaigned hard to be the one, even told them I'd go to the Feds myself. I wanted the baby to be mine, and more than that..."

He stopped there, and we were silent except for our breathing until finally I couldn't wait any more. "What?"

"We were talking to the Sherriff while we were out on Rape Beach. He said that every one of us was a Rape Beach Baby. You kept coming back. I know you secretly like the rapes. We all know." My secret shame, and they all knew it. I was glad he couldn't see my blush. He turned back to face me again and lay a hand on my face. "We don't judge you for that... we love having such a horny mom who gets off on being forced, it's the only thing that let us do it. If we thought you really didn't like it we'd stop, we all love you. But I just thought you deserved to have one baby born out of nothing but love, and nobody loves you more than me."

What else could I do? He made a persuasive argument, and though I'd had plenty of orgasms that day I didn't have that contented feel that only comes from a hot load in my pussy. I might already be pregnant anyway from that day at the beach, no birth control was perfect, and if it wasn't going to be Darryl, it would soon be somebody else.

Just like on Rape Beach, there comes a point when you just have to surrender and decide to make the best of things. And really, making the best wasn't so hard, because I got the best of both worlds. During the day I worked to support my family, the same family that would rape me the moment I got home until I got to bed, sometimes inviting other neighborhood boys over. During the nights Darryl treated me like a queen and made love to me tenderly while he attempted to give me a baby. Sometimes the two worlds weren't even all that separate, there were a few times where Duane got up and decided to rape me in one of my free holes while Darryl was tenderly loving my pussy. But while Duane would leave as soon as he was spent, Darryl would always lie with me, his arms around me and his big dick still in my cunt, like he was trying to use it like a stopper to keep his incestuous seed where it would do the most good.

The rapes felt pretty much non-stop, at least that's how it went for the first few weeks. After that, things settled down a little. I still got raped, but it wasn't constantly, and those in-between times, I managed to reassert something of a motherly role, although it was hard to give someone shit for not cleaning their room or doing their homework when it might be interrupted by the one you're lecturing pushing your head down to her snatch or pushing you up against the wall to pound your ass. Other than that, though, it was almost like it used to be, even a little quieter. Ella moved in with her teacher and his wife, although she still came to visit when she wanted to drag Lucy out to perform some sexual service for somebody, or me, for that matter. Ella had a decent little side-business as a pimp for her school mates. Adults don't need to pay in our town, they can go to Rape Beach whenever they feel like it, but fifth-graders can't drive, and a dollar for free use of Lucy for a half hour, or five for a ride on my ass, seemed like a small price to pay compared to the effort required to ride your bike up and hope there's a girl there who's not being used. Susan could also be had for twenty, but Ella only got half of that action. I never saw a dime, even after my price went to twenty briefly. That was after I got pregnant and hordes of apparently under-weaned children paid a premium for the right to suck on my tits and get a little drink of milk while they fucked my no-longer-off-limits pussy. My stock plummeted when Lucy began producing milk too, and she also got a bunch of temporary adult customers who enjoyed a visibly-pregnant twelve-year-old riding their cock.

Rape Beach stayed about the same, so I hear, with the new wrinkle Ella introduced, before long every class over the age of 11 had a field trip accidentally wind up there, and it became a tradition that happened at least once a year per class. These days, the only way a girl could remain a virgin until marriage is if her parents never signed a permission slip or if she never set foot off the bus until it left for home, and few had the discipline when they saw their friends in a wild orgy. Now pretty much every girl winds up there eventually, except for some of those homeschooled kids, and they're creepy. For all the increase in rape and teen pregnancies, complaints have actually come down, most girls think of it as a fun initiation to adult life and leave smiling. At least, that's what people tell me. Carol says that to bring back some of the danger of the beach, people are talking about bringing their dogs. Their male dogs, that is, people only want to rape human bitches, and, I suspect, dogs will begin to feel the same way.

As for myself, I never went there again. Holding down a job while caring for a love child doesn't leave a lot of free time, and really, why did I need to take a long trip out there? It came home with me. You can take the girl out of Rape Beach, but you can't take Rape Beach out of the girl. To tell the truth, I couldn't be happier, and don't think I'm missing anything by staying off the beach.

Of course, if they start bringing dogs, I'll have to seriously reconsider that.

The End

“CAUTION: Exercise caution and good sense before engaging in unsafe sex practices that involve any exchange of body fluid, even contact with open sores or small cuts. Scenes involving large objects, tattoos, bestial sex, body waste ingestion, bindings, devices and gadgets are the stuff of fantasy and are offered to promote the only safe sex there is - masturbation. Before you try anything, find out what the risks and hazards are because they can all be deadly. Read, enjoy, and remember - sex with minors should be left to other minors.” - Phil Phantom

This story is free to share and distribute so long as no money is charged.

If you liked this story, please provide feedback:

Subject:
Please enter your email address if you want me to write you back:
Please enter your name (optional):
Please enter your comments:

More Stories by AnonyMPC