Motherly Love:

Chapter V:

Her face redder than she'd imagined possible, Anne began the performance demanded of her. This was the sickest and most inexplicable aspect of the act, the most graphic and brutal proof of the truth that rape was but an act of power, not of desire.

She began to roll her hips seductively, singing:

"Fifteen birds in five fir trees,"

forcing herself to fake a smile as her hands roamed up and down her body, as her hips continued to weave.

"their feathers were fanned by a firey breeze."

Gripping her tits and suckling on her right nipple, thrusting her hips forward slightly and feeling very awkward and ashamed at dancing like this while pregnant, she continued:

"funny little birds, they had no wings,"

turning around and rolling her hips as she kneaded her own ass, that same faux smile beaming with an effective, if crude, mockery of Hathaway's own famous fuck me smile.

"whatever shall we do with the funny little things,"

whirling around and then sliding one of her hands between her legs, deciding to finger herself purely to titillate her captor.

"roast them alive or stew 'em in a pot. fry them boil them or eat them hot?"

As she whirled again with her hips rolling, to her own shame the feeling of her masturbation and dancing actually made this erotic, and she soon was simply rolling her hips as she continued to frig herself.

"Burn Burn Tree and fern! Shrivel and scorch, a fizzling torch"

as she removed her hands from between her legs and licked her fingers clean and again to her humiliation enjoyed this act more, perhaps far more, than reasonably should have been the case.

"to light the night for our delight ya hey!"

After she'd briefly rested her hands on her hips and leaned forward, to her further shame he was actually clapping.

"Wonderful, Anne. Such a geeky little slut and a beautiful singing voice, too."

She saw that cock hard as a rock gazing straight into her and then as he saw her gaze and where it was directed he told her, "Let's go to the bedroom, skank. And there I'll have you choose."

As he grabbed her arm and guided her roughly, or more precisely she guided him her breath came in rapid hyperventilations for a bit before she managed to calm herself down slightly.

He in turn smirked as he pulled her into her bedroom and then closed the door and shoved her without warning against it.

Crowding her intentionally, enjoying the look of fear and self-loathing in her eyes, he hissed, "You're a silly little cunt, Anne."

She whimpered and he then kissed her again before pointing to the bed.

He told her "Lie down, legs spread wide and we'll get to your choice."

Mechanically she walked to it and then lay on her back with her legs spread wide, hands even spreading her pussy with a faked smile.

"Good girl."

Then as he advanced toward her he spoke chilling words

"Now for the matter of your choice...."