Favela Pt. 03

"I expected to hate it. I thought it would be degrading, and disgusting. I pictured my daughter watching me as I pushed them slowly into my mouth. This was my punishment, for being such a useless mother. This was exactly what I deserved, an undeniable admission of my guilt. Even though my daughter wasn't really there I felt an overwhelming sense of relief, like I'd taken the first step towards earning her forgiveness.

I'm sure that sounds insane to you, but there was more to it. When I first started putting her panties into my mouth I prepared myself for a nasty surprise. You should have seen how dirty they were when I found them. I was not sure I could do what you wanted, even after I had decided to try. Only remembering my love gave me the courage, even so I was not really ready. Flooded with relief from my vision I noticed something else flooding my senses.

I'd never tasted another woman before, not like this. The biggest shock was that it tasted and smelled so delicious. The last thing I had expected was to enjoy it. It felt like I was being rewarded for my obedience. I was already excited but the more I tasted and smelled the stronger my body reacted. I started sucking without even realizing, I wanted more. That's when I started fucking myself with my fingers, I couldn't have stopped if I'd wanted to.

My extreme arousal wasn't imaginary, I had to be careful because I almost came the second I touched myself, it was frustrating but I forced my fingers to slow down so I wouldn't lose my mind. This pleasure was too seductive too sweet, I wanted it to last forever. I had forgotten that my body could feel this good, this alive. You don't know how long it had been for me, a lifetime."

Olivia felt a pang of sympathy, she hadn't thought about it much but Marcella hadn't just been neglecting her daughter, she had been neglecting herself too. How long had it been since her dad had left and her mom had withdrawn from life? Thinking back it was hard to gauge, so long ago that she couldn't really remember when things had started getting bad, lost in the fog of her youth. There were so many things to think about now, she barely knew where to start.

"So you love your daughter now and you love the taste and smell of her cunt? That puts me in an awkward position, but I'm not sure I really believe you. This was supposed to be punishment, you weren't supposed to enjoy it. I honestly didn't think you could be such a pervert." She sent the message, her insides felt all fluttery and precarious. The rising nausea and uncertainty rekindling her anger at Marcella, there was no way she was letting her mom get off this easy.

"On the other hand you did everything I asked, it would be unfair to overlook that, and thanks to your honest confession you've given me a few ideas. This time you'll be punished properly but there will be something sweet in it for you too. You're going to start doing your daughter's laundry. You're going to wash all of her dirty clothes, except for her panties. I expect you to clean those thoroughly with your mouth while you masturbate. Take a picture with each pair right after you orgasm, just like before."

Right as she hit send, a reply to her last message appeared from Marcella. Olivia cursed quietly, this was a complication she hadn't anticipated, clearly one of the many perils of making everything up as she went; her mother's text read:

"I don't know how much more of this teasing I can take, yes her panties were yummy and playing with myself is fun but what I really want is a big hard cock. In my mouth, in my pussy, in my ass, anywhere really as long as you're fucking me. I told you where I live, what are you waiting for?"

Olivia knew she would have to respond quickly, she could sense Marcella's simmering irritation and it scared her a little. She had experience with her mother's explosive temper, things could go downhill rapidly. "It almost sounds like you're telling me what to do, but that would be crazy, like begging for more punishment." Best to put down her foot, and then throw her mom a bone. She sent it but kept typing. Olivia just had an absolutely brilliant idea.

"But since you asked so nicely I'll make a house call. There is one thing you need to know first though, I have a little confession of my own to make, my profile picture is fake, I look similar but that's not me. I work for someone very dangerous and it's better for both of us if you never see my face. I want you to wear a blindfold so it won't be a problem. I don't expect you to trust my words alone that I am who I say I am, but I can prove it by putting my life in your hands.

Tell your daughter that you're expecting a visitor, go ahead and describe me in detail. I'm guessing you have a gun, I want you to let her borrow it. Explain to her that you need her protection. Have her hide in your closet and make sure that she can see your bed. Be sure that she knows how important it is for her to pay very close attention to everything that happens. Tell her that if I come near the closet or if I'm not who I say I am, or if I do anything at all you don't like, that she should shoot me immediately."

It was a long message, she was proud of it, her ingenuity under pressure never ceased to disappoint. She laughed giddily, in all likelihood her mother would probably freak out and call the whole thing off. Her inferences were shady as fuck, she had all but admitted that Romeo worked for the Favelos, and that would be a big red flag for any sane person.

Secondly she had brought herself fully into the picture, basically setting things up so her mom would be forced to fuck right in front of her own daughter. How embarrassing. While she'd responded seriously, doing her best to play along with Marcella's prompts, in her mind she couldn't imagine even her sex-starved mother being this crazy or desperate. Suddenly she felt a stab of panic, but what if...

There was no text just a picture. Olivia screamed into her pillow. After nearly a minute of anguished panting she picked her phone back up and gave it a second look. Marcella's crotch, her mom was wearing the same lingerie from the very first photo she'd ever sent, only this time her long spidery fingers were dangling dreamily down in front of it; loosely she clutched an olive-drab military surplus disintegrator. Her nails were thickly painted a pornographic shade of red.