Coddling Pedophiles and Their Wives Who Do It

Date: 2/23/2017

By Fitful

Disclaimer: Graphic depiction of shit which could trigger you. Two Perspectives. First. There is a small town. Lots of burly guys with beards and red hair and pot bellies live there. I was going into men's houses while it was dark, in the middle of the night, for some other reason, I think dropping off laundry. Repeatedly I found each one with a baby all nestled in their hair chest on the floor, while they wiggling around beneath it. Pants mussed and quick movements when I came in and the light came on. Then they stopped and made some excuse, the baby wanted it, the baby did it, the baby wanted to be close. I felt a little suspicious of my neighbors but didn't pursue it. I was a perfect wife. Second. Later I am in a bedroom, on a familiar bed with familiar bedding, about to be fucked. There is a disconnect between my body and my emotions, and my body and my mind. My body feels excited like it's a little sexually aroused, but my mind is numb and isn't aroused. Doesn't particularly want sex with this man. Then it reverses and I want to do what I'm told and want sex but my body isn't listening and doesn't want the sex. My body is being fucked but my body isn't feeling good and isn't enjoying it and is confused, my feelings are confused and thought elsewhere feeling like in a cloud or fuzzy place. It's a guy, a man and he maneuvers me the way he want me. And he tells me to stop and let go (of the bed which I am clutching and of controlling myself) and I do, and he just fucks my flopping body. Literally all my limbs just flop about even my head on my spindly neck, and he fucks this flopping gummy doll that is me. I think about how it's not fun like I think it's supposed to be. I don't understand why. I am smaller too, very small, like half his size or smaller, small enough to be tossed around. And I obey him perfectly, every order, I don't even question. I can't tell if he is fucking my anus or my vagina, I don't think I know the difference. I know he hooks his hands over my mouth and in my mouth like a handle. When he's done I am dripping blood. I think it's my period. It drips all over my bed, and then when I stumble down the hallway to the bathroom it drops on the floor, and I'm bent over hardly able to walk, and I touch a bookcase and there is blood on my hands. The man is nervous and tries to clean up the blood. But his wife sees it on the bookcase, and suddenly starts yelling at him about how they decided no bread. She is upset because one day of eating bread would make sex difficult. She immediately linked the sight of blood to bread. I think wow, it's just a sandwich. I think she has found his lunchbox. Then she does it again, finds the blood on the floor, and she starts yelling at him about something else. Something else she disallowed and now he's done. Never once does she even see me, it's like I don't exist and I'm not in the room. Even though Im standing right there clutching the bookcase, my stomach hurting barely able to stand.