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Momma’s Little Bitch Ch. 01

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My baby had been taken from me the minute she emerged from inside me. I was nineteen. I never even got a chance to hold her. The only thing they told me was that I had given birth to a baby girl but I was not allowed to take her home with me or even see her. I don’t know why. I suspected the man who’d forced this on me told them I couldn’t have my baby. If I had been allowed to keep my baby and raise her myself, I’d have named her Jollie, which means “pretty” French. Without my baby I didn’t have anything else to do. Dad rarely ever came to visit because Momma hated him and all men alike and she divorced him five years ago. I spent most of my time at home in bed or on the couch watching the people outside. Without a baby to nurse my breasts were full of milk and they felt heavy on me, and I had no way of milking myself, although I would leak some milk at the worst moments.

As I sat on the couch one afternoon alone, crying, Momma came and sat next to me and put her hand on mine.

“When I first heard that my daughter was pregnant, it broke my heart and I felt so ashamed,” Momma said, then went on, “But when I heard that my baby had been badly hurt I put my anger aside.”

“Momma are you angry with me?” I asked, tears rolling down my cheeks.

“No sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault… Men are just cruel monsters,” ankara escort Momma said, brushing my tears away with her fingers.

“Not all men are evil Momma, Daddy loved us,” I said.

Then Momma’s eyes got dark and she tightened her grip on my wrist as she said, “You will not speak of him in my house Irma.”

“I’m sorry Momma, I didn’t mean too, I just really miss him,” I said.

“I know,” Momma said, holding my face in her hands.

Then her hands went to my breasts as she continued, “You were just too young to understand, the cruelty of men at the time. And now a man has hurt my sweet baby girl.” As she spoke she started unbuttoning my shirt. As she peeled my shirt open and pushed it down my shoulders a bit, revealing my breasts barely hidden behind my lacy white bra, she cupped my 34D breasts in her hand.

“Big full breasts as large and beautiful as these could feed the world,” Momma said, pulling down my bra to reveal my nipples. She caressed my nipples with her fingertips.

“Momma what are you doing?” I asked.

As my nipples hardened Momma brought her lips to my left breasts, sucking my nipple. My own mother was nursing from me. As she did she had pushed up my skirt and was lightly caressed my pussy through my panties with her fingertips, and I could feel myself escort ankara getting wet. I bit my lip.

“Momma please stop, this isn’t right,” I said.

But Momma didn’t answer me. She just kept sucking my breast, rubbing my pussy through my flimsy panties, tugging at my nipple with her lips. As Momma nursed from me she began to hum. She wasn’t singing but I knew the lyrics,

“Hush little baby don’t say a word,

Momma’s going to buy you a mockingbird…”

“Please Momma,” I said, tears filling my eyes again.

When Momma had sucked everything I had to offer from one breast she quickly switched her attention to the other breast. Flicking my nipple with her tongue before closing her lips around it and sucking my breast again, and as she did she thrust her hand into my panties. Without ceremony she slid three fingers into my wet pussy and started to finger me.

“Stop, Momma,” I cried.

Again Momma was humming into my breast as she sucked the milk from my breast, slowly fingering my pussy. Even though I didn’t want her, my body was reacting fast to every touch Momma gave me. When she had sucked my other breast dry, Momma smiled at me and pushed her fingers deeper, rubbing my g-spot.

“Please stop Momma,” I begged, but a moan had escaped my lips in addition and I hated myself ankara escort bayan for it.

“See how wet you are, and so responsive. Even to the lightest touch,” Momma cooed.

She rubbed my clit with her thumb as she fingered me harder and faster. I bit my lip just as I felt myself crying out and Momma laughed.

“No wonder it was so easy for that man to corrupt you,” Momma said.

“No Momma,” I sobbed.

“Just look at you, dripping wet, your nipples are so hard. And yet it was a boy who touched you and not a woman,” Momma said, her voice cold.

“No Momma I didn’t!” I shouted.

Then I threw my head back and cried out as my orgasm built up.

“You are so close, you slut,” Momma said, fingering my pussy harder and deeper.

“No Momma, please stop!” I shouted.

But all it took was one final push of Momma’s hand, and I came all over her hand. Momma withdrew her fingers from my pussy and sucked my juices off her hand, then said, “A woman’s body never lies.”

Then she put her hands on my waist and said cruelly, “You’re going to be my little bitch now, and whenever you are called to service me you will wear this outfit…” she produced a maid’s outfit, which was very, very skimpy and revealing, “… You are to call me ‘Momma’ when we are alone, and when I have friends over you will call me ‘Mistress.’ If you misbehave, you will be punished.”

“Yes Momma,” I said.

Momma hung the uniform on my door handle, then she turned back to me and said, “You will come downstairs tomorrow at 10 am.

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