Mom is an Incestuous Slut Ch. 01

Over and again, my fans of incestuous erotica tell me their sad stories of how they were incestuously used and sexually abused too. Traumatized and stigmatized by the experience, they tell me that they too were so incestuously used and sexually abused by their mother, their father, their sister, their brother, their cousin, their uncle, their aunt, their grandmother, and/or their grandfather. They tell me that what happened to them left an indelible mark on their personalities and that they'll never been the same person they were before having the incestuous sexual experience.

As survivors of incest and as if we're all members of an incest survivor club, is incest something we're all doomed to repeat? Vicariously reading while being stuck in the Twilight Zone and sexually fantasizing about having sex with our blood relatives, are those who were victims of incest drawn to read incestuous erotica in the way that I'm doomed to write incestuous erotica? Thinking that I understood why I am who I am, incest is something I can't always compute. I don't fully understand why I have the need and the urge to write such incestuous mother and son erotica. Is it because of my mother having sex with my brothers that I feel so compelled to write and rewrite the mother and son incestuous experiences as stories that never end? Being that I'm one of my brother's daughters, is incest in my DNA? Is incest my Hell on Earth and I'm doom to repeat it by writing it?

Not having a son to lust over, I don't even have any children. I wanted children but my ex didn't. He had a vasectomy without telling me. How about that? Can you imagine doing that to your wife while knowing that she wants a child? Yet, there was an ulterior motive to him having a vasectomy.

Instead of having children and raising a family, he pressured me to participate in the swinging lifestyle. Then, suddenly jealously possessive over me and who I slept with, when I received more attention from men than he received from women, he was done swinging. We spent two years trying to have a child before he confessed and told me that he had a vasectomy. I was devastated. I was done with him. Our marriage was over.

Notwithstanding my longstanding puzzled confusion, my having such incestuous, sexual thoughts all makes sense to me now. Those tortured people who write me that they're incest survivors too, just as I was, were bitten by a vampire too. Controlled by incest, we're all incestuous zombies. Those of us who have been so incestuously abused and sexually used, those of us who think that we've survived the incestuous, sexual abuse, think that they're healed but we're not.

We're not healed. We're broken. We're not normal. We're abnormal. We're all twisted in such a way that we continue to embrace incest in our lives by reading it and, in my case, by writing it. Instead of recoiling from incest and rejecting such perversely sexual thoughts, after doing the dirty deeds we were forced to do, incestuous sex is as normal to us in the way that incestuous sex is as abnormal to those who have escaped being forced and/or coerced to have sex with a blood relative. God help us because only he can.

Unfortunately, unable to stop from reading incestuous stories, those of us who have had incestuous sex are all doomed to relive the experience again through the eyes of someone else while reading their incestuous stories. As if waiting to die on death row, we're all waiting to read our next, best incestuous story or, in my case, to write my next, best incestuous story. Condemned to Hell by our attraction to incest and to all things that are incestuous, newly deemed disciples of the Devil, when once we were all so innocent, we're all playing with fire in the Devil's playground now. Just as the women think about sleeping with their sons, brothers, fathers, uncles, cousins, and grandfathers, the men fantasize of bedding their daughters, sisters, mothers, aunts, cousins, and grandmothers. Where does it end? Is it all an unending and an unbreakable incestuous cycle of abuse.

So many fans have asked me why I write incestuous erotica and why I write so many mother and son stories. Thinking that I knew the reason and had the answer, I smugly told them all the same thing. I told them to read my story, Why I Write Incestuous Erotica. I told them that just as they were, I was bitten by a vampire too. I always believed the answers were there in that incestuously disturbing story but they're not. Damaged long before that even happened to me with my uncle and cousin incestuously abusing me and sexually using me and my brothers continuing where my uncle and cousin left off, I was wrong.

I always thought the reason why I write incestuous erotica was because, bitten by a vampire, my uncle and cousin incestuously abused me and sexually used me. After having been forced to have sex with my uncle and cousin, I thought the reason why I'm so twisted today is because my brothers had their wicked way with my naked body. Fucking me and forcing me to suck them, six men who were supposed to love, honor, and protect me, I thought they all were the reason why I write incestuous erotica today but I was wrong.

After thinking long and hard about all that happened to me so long ago, I think the reason why I write incestuous erotica and especially mother and son incest stories stems from growing up with my whore of a mother and my perversely perverted four, much older brothers. An innocent victim, I was forced to concede that I'm a product of my environment. My family life is what has shaped and molded me. My prostitute of a mother and perverted brothers are the reason why I'm the woman I am today.

To be continued...

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