The warehouse door slammed shut behind them, the echo swallowed by the low hum of the generators and the shuffle of heavy boots on concrete. Claires wrists were already zip-tied behind her back, the plastic biting into her skin. Her son, Ryan, twenty-two and broad-shouldered from years of construction work, stood rigid beside her, chest heaving. Six men circled them under the single bare bulb, their faces half-hidden in shadow, eyes bright with hunger.
Strip the bitch first, one of them ordered, voice rough like gravel. Hands grabbed Claires blouse and tore it open, buttons skittering across the floor. Her bra followed, then her jeans yanked down to her ankles. She was left in nothing but the torn remnants of her panties, nipples tightening in the cold air. Ryan lunged forward, but a fist to his gut dropped him to his knees.
Watch, kid. Learn how its done.
They forced Ryan into a chair, tying his ankles to the legs, his arms behind the backrest. One of the men unzipped and slapped his cock against Claires cheek. Open. When she hesitated, another grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. The first man shoved in, thick and already leaking, stretching her mouth wide. She gagged, spit running down her chin as he fucked her throat in short, brutal thrusts.
Ryans eyes were wide, his own cock visibly hardening against his will inside his jeans. The men noticed and laughed. Look at that. Junior likes watching Mommy get used. They cut Ryans shirt off, then his jeans, leaving him exposed. His erection stood rigid, flushed dark. One of the gang members stroked it roughly, making Ryan jerk and curse.
Claire was pushed onto all fours. A second man knelt behind her, spreading her ass and driving into her cunt without warning. She cried out around the cock in her mouth, the sound muffled and wet. The man behind her gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, pounding deep and steady while the others watched and stroked themselves. Every thrust shoved her forward onto the cock in her throat.
They switched places, rotating through her. One man lifted her onto his lap, impaling her on his cock while another pressed against her ass, forcing his way in. She was stretched wide, filled in both holes, the burn and pressure making her vision blur. Ryan was made to watch every inch disappearing inside his mother, her tits bouncing with each impact. When one of the men came, he pulled out and painted her face, thick ropes landing across her lips and eyelashes.
They untied Ryan only to shove him onto the floor on his back. Claire was positioned over him, straddling his hips. Ride your boy, they ordered. Make him come or we start breaking fingers. She lowered herself onto Ryans cock, both of them gasping at the forced contact. Her cunt was slick from the others, taking him easily, but the wrongness of it made her shake. Ryans hands were still bound; he could only thrust up helplessly as she moved.
The gang kept her moving, one man behind her pushing her down harder, another feeding his cock into her mouth again. They took turns in her ass while she rode Ryan, the wet sounds of flesh on flesh filling the warehouse. Ryan came first, pulsing inside her with a broken groan, his face twisted in unwanted pleasure. They didnt stop. They flipped her onto her back, Ryan pulled on top of her again, forced to fuck her while they took her mouth and ass in turn.
Hours blurred. They came on her tits, in her hair, across Ryans chest. Every position was used: Claire on her knees sucking both of them in alternation, Ryan made to lick her clean between rounds, the two of them locked together while the men watched and directed. By the end Claires voice was hoarse from screaming and moaning, Ryans body marked with bite marks and bruises. The last man finished deep in her ass, then they cut the ties and left them on the floor, sticky and shaking.
The warehouse door opened again. Cold air rushed in. Claire reached for Ryan, pulling him against her chest. Neither spoke. The only sounds were their breathing and the distant drip of water somewhere in the dark.
