Motherly Love:

Chapter XI:

The moment that decided Anne would take the path to proving something to herself came after the latest unsatisfying attempt at lovemaking with her husband.
After her rape and humiliation Anne had developed a fixation. A consensual rape fantasy with the man she loved, father of her child. A means to heal, to process, to show herself her husband understood and loved her deeply. She did not, however, confess to him that she'd been raped, let alone the details of the rape, which in hindsight may have made it all more awkward than it needed to be in all truth. She certainly wasn't remotely able to confess to him at times when she came it wasn't his face she saw but her rapist's.

The desire to prove that lightning didn't strike twice, and the need to sort all this out led Anne to return to the same place, and the same cabin six months later. She'd worked off the baby-weight, her husband was actually quite pleased to have time to look after the kid to himself, and he quietly hoped whatever real issue bothered Anne could be sorted out.

The plane trip was a long one. Anne stood staring for a moment at the airport, and stood staring again at the terminal before returning to the same place she'd rented her vehicle from the last time.

The drive was the longest hour she'd ever had, and at moments she felt a low heat crawling through her and the spider-like feelings associated with both anticipation and anxiety, like invisible insects crawling in her skin and the stab of ice up her spine. Her breathing accelerated and she had to resist the temptation to leadfoot her car in a way that might lead it off the road. The hour ended and she arrived, as she unbuckled her seatbelt and got her suitcase out of her car. This was it. The place she'd been raped and humiliated. Made to serenade both her rapist and the most horrific anal experience she'd ever had. Serenading her own anal rape.

She froze, her face going pale, her lips tight, and she bit it with nervousness. More hyperventilation, her pupils shrinking, and then she took a sudden deep breath, got the keys, and unlocked the door. The first night was very mundane, and she celebrated that with a beer and her own nude form in front of a mirror. She checked herself out. Pregnancy did a body good, at least in her case. Her already-ample tits were ampler, her ass was bigger, too. She rubbed her belly. Nice and taught now, her face was a little fuller but that was OK. She licked her lips. She was hot again, after feeling like first a whale and then a monster after she'd been raped and humiliated and treated like a fucking brood mare.

Of her own volition her hand slid between her legs. She'd been wet since she'd made the decision, so two fingers slipped in easily. Her breath caught and a flush spread through her body, a red mark of arousal that combined with red cheeks to make her desire apparent even to herself. She fingered herself with pleasure, cooing.

Her rapist had tracked her when he'd seen her at the rental place.

He was pleased for winning almost 200 dollars from his friends when he'd bet them all ten bucks each she'd be back and in the same place in six months.

Anne fingered herself and the memory of her rapist flashed through again, his bestial smile bringing her to an orgasm as she gasped in pleasure and sagged to her knees.

In her post-orgasmic bliss when her doorbell rang she didn't remember her nudity and scrambled up to get it.

She saw his face when she opened the door, screamed, and slammed it shut only for him to successfully push the door open.

"Hello, Annie girl. Did you miss me?"