Snuff porn for Valentine’s Day sound like fun to you? Not to me, but I knew my oldest son had nothing romantic in mind when he told me to slip on a pretty pink outfit and be waiting for him. He saw the fear in my eyes when he came over. He can smell fear on me. Nothing turns him on more than seeing his mommy scared. He has my ex husband’s mean streak. Thankfully, my two youngest boys from husband number two are the opposite of him in every way. My first born is unstable. I would not be surprised if he has killed in the past, so every time he wants to see me, yes I get scared. I do what I am told with him not out of love or even my submissive nature, but pure fear. I put on this pink latex outfit he loves so much. I hate it. My nipples are exposed for him to torture and it fits so tight my circulation gets cut off. He arrived but sans any sign of romantic gestures like flowers or candy. He smacked me hard across the face and called me a whore. Forced me on my knees so he could skull fuck me, then pissed in my eyes and acted like it was champagne. His urine burned my eyes making me squint to see anything the rest of the time. I knew not to cry, however. That always gets me burned with cigars. He pulled my red mane, dragging me to the bedroom where he fisted my ass to prep it for his cock. He loves to make his own ass rape porn with me. I guess I was not faking excitement well enough for my Ted Bundy offspring, so he punched me in the face. Broke my nose. When the blood cascaded down my face, he called me his little bloody valentine. He punched me in the gut a few times, kicked me, spit on me, pissed on me one more time, then said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, whore,” and left. Seeing how our last encounter resulted in a spiral fracture, I fared better this time.
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