I’m his Mommy. He is eight.

My boyfriend is a p*** r*****. I love him and I love my son. I love my p*** r***** as I love myself. I let him r*** my b** for practice. He is very, very good at r***** my b**. Down come my knickers, in goes the c***, there’s a short pause and then push, push, push, my p*** r***** orgasms and pumps milk into my rear. Then he does it again, and again, r***, r***, r***.

Tonight my boyfriend’s straight 7″ r***** c*** is coming to my house. He will spend the night here. I have a school cane and an electric stinger which my p*** r***** boyfriend will use on my son’s hands, bare bottom and firm white balls. Then my boyfriend’s repeater 7″ c*** is going to r***, r***, r*** my son up the b**. He will find time to f*** me too, but he is really keen to f*** my son up the b** with his hard, straight, 7″ repeater c***.

The stinger hurts most. My son yelps every time my boyfriend presses the button on the remote control. Bzz… STING! Ow, ow! Sometimes the sting makes him piss in his pretty, tight girl’s p******. We can lock the stinger around his balls so that my r***** boyfriend can stand outside the school and burn my son’s balls with it.

Tonight, after his b** has been caned and raped a few times and his balls have been stung to ashes, my son will not be able to sit down or stand up without wriggling. I love him, but whom I love I give to a p*** r***** who stings, whacks, kisses and fucks him.