The Phone Call

©2021 FXBradshaw

This is a complete fantasy. It contains scenes involving incest, non-consensual sex, and mental illness. All characters are 18 years of age or older. No one under 18 years of age should be reading this stuff. Again, this is pure fantasy. None of this is okay in real life. If you are offended by such topics, Why Are You Still Reading This?

MAN: "Hello?"

WOMAN: "Hey baby"

MAN: "Oh, hey...you..."

WOMAN: "Baby, it's me!"

MAN: "Right, right... sorry. You know, you don't quite sound like yourself tonight."

WOMAN: "I sound exactly like myself tonight... maybe that's what's throwing you."

MAN: "Okaaay. Sure, that's probably it. So, first day there... how's the shopping going -- singlehandedly saving the nation's retail sector, I suspect."

WOMAN: "I'm going to ignore your bitchy remark and say it's going just fan-fucking-tastick! [pause, voice lower] I miss you, baby."

MAN: "Yeah... I, ah, miss you too... Say, it's pretty noisy there -- where are you?"

WOMAN: "I'm in the hotel bar -- I think it must be '80s Night -- You hear that? I think its Duran Duran. Oh god, look at all those gals out on the dance floor... they look like street walkers... wearing half a yard of sparkly material with their tiny boobs falling out... shaking their skinny asses... And the guys! There's a few hot hunks, but ferchristsake, I mean... I'm not homophobic, you know that... but I swear, I swear, most of them look like they should be working a street corner opposite some of those girls, and... "

MAN: "... and it sounds like someone left all their polite filters somewhere..."

WOMAN: "[With bad fake Mexican accent] Filters? Filters? I don't need no stinking filters! [giggles]"

MAN: "... Soooo, let me guess -- G &Ts?"

WOMAN: "Only two; don't be mean."

MAN: "So... three..."

WOMAN: "Maybe... [giggles]"

MAN: "Maybe four, then."

WOMAN: "Oh, poo!"

MAN: "What?"

WOMAN: "Poo!"

MAN: "What... hey, that music is really loud, I can't..."

WOMAN: "Got it... yeah... [noise] I'm... [noise] I'm moving to... [noise] to a quieter place..."

[Female voice, receding; 'Hey, what the... watch where you're going! Geez! Drunk bitch.']

MAN: "Hey... hey, where are going... are you still there? Hey...!"

WOMAN: "... I'm -- what are you looking at, skank -- I'm in the Ladies... going to... yeah, here we go -- just ducking into the last stall."

[Door banging, angry but faint female voices in the background, unidentifiable noise]

MAN: "Well, of course you are... come on, what the hell is going on..."

WOMAN: "... Just a second..."

MAN: "Sure [pause] Alright... you all set now?"

WOMAN: "Yeah, I'm good."

MAN: "So what's up that you need the privacy of the privy to discuss it?"

WOMAN: "Look baby, I need to... I need to tell you something... something important..."

MAN: "Okay... I'm listening..."

WOMAN: "You know I love you, don't you baby? I love you sooo much... so much it hurts sometimes... it hurts... you know? [sobbing]."

MAN: "Its okay... I know, I... I love you, too."

WOMAN: "[Sniffle] Thank you, baby. But... but... I had something to tell you... Yes! Yes!"

MAN: "And that was...?"

WOMAN: "I said I love you, so you know -- you have to know -- that what I'm going to tell you... it comes from a place of love. I mean I would never say anything to upset you -- you know that don't you?"

MAN: "So stipulated, counselor -- move on."

WOMAN: "Oh you're funny... you're a funny guy, aren't you. You must get that from your father; you sure as shit didn't get it from your mother... the bitch."

MAN: "Come on, lover, focus... you had something to tell me...?"

WOMAN: "Right, right, right. Okay, you sitting down, baby?"

MAN: "What... okay; yeah, sure."

WOMAN: "Your mother... is a whore."

MAN: "[Groan] What the... Look; you're a little wasted so why don't you..."

WOMAN: "... a nasty, filthy, cocksucking whore. That's your mother. Yeah, I said it; she's a fucking whore."

MAN: "Please, darling, let's not do this -- why don't you just get a little shut-eye and in the morning this will all..."

WOMAN: "...I'm telling you this because... because... she would never have the guts to. And you need to know this now... now that you two have buried the hatchet and all... now that you're willing to forget what an utter bitch she was to you... and to your father...when you were growing up... what a God-awful mother she was."

MAN: "I love my mother."

WOMAN: "Noooo you don't. You've hated her your whole life -- with good cause. You're just saying that now because you're trying to convince yourself its true. You feel guilty for hating her. You feel sorry for her because you bought her whole line about how sorry she was for being such a bad mommy, and now she's just a poor old widow, alone in the world, and her only child despises her, boo hoo..."

MAN: "It's more than that -- much more than that, and you know it. Plus, I haven't exactly treated her the way a good son should, so... there's that, isn't there."

WOMAN: "Oh bullshit. Admit it; you're smitten by her whole Ice Queen schtick... like most guys are. She attracts guys like you, they buzz around her like flies on shit. But she'll just break your heart -- like she did your dad.

"I get it, I do; she still looks and dresses like some model right out of a magazine -- well, a little more Vanity Fair these days than Vogue, but still... so, yeah, she looks good on your arm at the theatre, opera, ballet and all those fancy-pants, high society events where rich people like you two go to be seen. And she's so refined and sophisticated, you can take her anywhere...and, and you two share so much, and can talk for hours... and of course she knows what wine to order and, and what fork to use... and all that pointless shit guys like you seem to care so much about.

"But think, Mr. Master's Degree; what do you think you can have with her? She's your goddamned mother, ferchristsake -- not your perfect platonic girlfriend! You're going on 30 years old and you're dating -- and living with -- your mom. What. The. Fuck!

"Then... there's me. I was there for you, baby -- remember? She got you all hot and bothered, but who took care of you in the end, huh? Me! I did the dirty work when she left you high and dry. Remember how good it was? Anything you asked me -- everything you wanted, I did.

"Ask? Hell; you told me to... or just made me do all those nasty, beautifully obscene things. Oh and I loved you for it, baby... remember? [voice lowered, trembling] You were my master... my god... and I worshiped you with every single part of me.

"She could never do that for you, baby. Oh she might promise things with her eyes, with her... carefully guarded words... her innuendos, but she will never deliver. Hell, she might even want to, but she could never bring herself to do it; to let go, surrender... to give herself over to that, that... animal inside.

"But that's me, baby; the animal... and nothing but. I'll never make you wait or jump through hoops. I'll never turn up my nose in disgust or send you away with your blue balls aching. No, honey, I will always be your Go-To girl.

MAN: "... Yeah, I...I get that...I do..."

WOMAN: "[Pause] Yeah... but you wouldn't want to be seen with me in public, would you? I mean, not anywhere 'nice', not anywhere you or your mom's rich, tight-ass friends might see us -- right?"

MAN: "...That's not exactly..."

WOMAN: "Fuck you. I know I'm a slut -- hell, I'm a fucking super freak. You know it, too. I've never pretended to be anything else. But you don't know the real Constance, the creature behind the mask. Sure; she goes around all high and mighty, prim and proper... with her couture clothes and Emily Post manners and her charities and philanthropies and all those noble causes she gets so self-righteous about. Everybody thinks because she hob nobs with all those rich, stick-up-their-asses hypocrites that her shit don't stink.

"Well... I know a thing or two about Miss Goody Two-Shoes that would drop your jaw. Things I've never told you. Things you ought to know about that woman... things you should know the next time you're out to dinner with her... or, or, or take her for a spin on the dance floor at one of her phony baloney charity balls... things you should think about as she's there in your arms... as you hold her close and she rests her head on your tuxedo shoulder... while you twirl around together...[sobs]"

MAN: "Come on, come on... don't do this. Please. Just... call it a night and..."

WOMAN: "No! I have to! I have to. For you... not for me. It's all for you, baby.

"I'll tell you something about that slut. Something I've never told you before. Because you need to know who she really is... why she's like that... and most important, why she can never give you what you need."

MAN: "Sure. Fine. Tell me the story."

WOMAN: "[Pause] She ever tell you why she went to two different high schools? Huh?"

MAN: "Sure."

WOMAN: "I mean the real reason -- not that bullshit about 'getting sick' or your grandfather having to relocate for business, or 'wanting the best academic environment' for his little princess.

"No, nothing like that. The truth? I'll tell you... So one day, at the beginning of her senior year -- a day after her eighteenth birthday... she'd just clicked over to 'Legal' -- one of the teachers at her first high school walks into the boys bathroom to see if he can catch them smoking or gambling or fighting or dunking some underclassman's head in the toilet -- or any of those stupid-ass things boys always do in there.

"What do you think he sees; our little princess, kneeling on the floor, her blouse open, her pubescent titties hanging out, her panties down around her knees, her skirt hiked up in back, surrounded by four boys. Three of them are standing and she's got the center one's cock in her mouth while she's jerking off the guys on either side of him. The fourth dude is kneeling next to the slut with one hand in front diddling her fuzzy young pussy, while the other one was slapping her bare butt.

"The teacher almost shit himself!

"So he hauls her on down to the headmaster's office, and the two of them are thinking the boys forced her into being their cum dumpster... until she tells him, point blank that they didn't force her to do anything -- she wanted to do that stuff; she was having fun! So the headmaster loses it and tells her 'decent women don't do such things,' fun or not, and that this could 'ruin her reputation' for life.

"Know what she tells him? 'I don't have a reputation to ruin; I'm nobody.'

"She was right, you know; she was one of those brainiacs with a genius IQ without even the social skills God gave to a fucking animal cracker. She really didn't have a single friend in that place. Pretty fucking, sad, eh?"

MAN: "Really...?"

WOMAN: "Really, really. She was like, like... Rain Man with an over active libido. Let me tell you a little more about the adventures of Constance the Whore. Because that first school -- like all of her schools -- was a an ungodly expensive private one, all her father had to do was open his check book and poof! The incident never happened. Daddy ships her off to the West Coast to a different school after reading her the riot act, telling her she better shape-up... make friends, join clubs, you know... 'be normal' [snickers] Yeah; like he would know what that was, the sick bastard.

"[Pause]... I mean, you do know he did it to her... didn't you? He made her like that. After he put her mother in the looney bin...?"

MAN: "What are you talking about?"

WOMAN: "Oh, yeah. I mean after Mommy was out of the picture, Constance, had to step up and be the 'Lady of the Manor'... had to take over all of Mommy's duties... and I do mean all of them...

MAN: "Wait a minute... are you saying..."

WOMAN: "You know exactly what I'm saying, you little shit! Oh, and don't tell me, Mr. Know-it-all, that you didn't suspect something like that. You've always known she wasn't quite right...

MAN: "[Chuckle, then, sarcastic] Oh, really? Ya think? I hadn't really noticed."

WOMAN: "Fuck you, smart ass. Okay, so how do you think she got that way? Improper potty training? Please!"

MAN: "You know, before he died, Dad sat me down and told all the family secrets -- everything -- even stuff that probably no father should tell his kid... and, yeah; that included the run down on Mother's... appetites... but he never mentioned anything like that about her father... or that shit about high school -- which, by the way, sounds more like your speed -- so forgive me for thinking you're making this all up."

WOMAN: "[Pause, voice lowered] Maybe he didn't tell you because Constance never told him..."

MAN: "Come on..."

WOMAN: "Think about it... I mean, really think about it for a minute; maybe she was afraid that kind of shit would be just too much for him to deal with. Maybe she was afraid he would figure out just how broken and damaged she really was and would go running for the hills. Maybe she saw him as the only decent thing in her life and didn't want to lose him... no matter what it would end up costing the poor bastard. So yeah, maybe she didn't tell her husband how her daddy used her and that she was Queen of the Boys Room Blow Job!... Ya think?"

MAN: "[Pause] Okay. Yeah, sure. Maybe..."

WOMAN: "Damn straight! Should I even bother to tell you about her freshman year in college, where she was caught in the men's locker room getting spit-roasted by half of the soccer team? Or how her lesbian roommate made young Constance her pet... and by pet, I mean 'pet' -- you know; spiked collars, leashes, butt plugs with tails attached, oh and plenty of strap-on sex. Oh yeah, that's your Ice Queen for you -- real class act."

MAN: "Okay -- whatever. Where are you going with this?"

WOMAN: "Don't you see? Once a whore always a whore. Your dad kept her stable with a maintenance dose of perversion, discretely delivered in the privacy of their bedroom.

MAN: "Why are you telling me all this?"

WOMAN: "Because now he's gone and she's looking for another connection... she's got her eye on a new dealer... and honey, it's you."

MAN: [Silence]

WOMAN: "You know it's true, don't you! She can't help herself -- Christ, I bet most of the time she probably doesn't even know she's doing it. Tell me; does she come down to breakfast some mornings in nothing but a bathrobe, maybe one of those short, translucent, swishy kimono things? Bending over a lot so you can catch a good look at her bottom... and the bottom of her bottom, mmm? Yeah, then leaning over a lot and flashing her wrinkled cleavage for you?"

MAN: "It's not wrinkled..."

WOMAN: "...I knew it! Oh, oh, and I'll bet she bought a new bikini for that pool out back of the house. What kind of suit did she wear when hubby was around? Nice, conservative one-piece? Now what's she sporting -- some thong number with postage stamps up top, barely covering her nipples? Yeah, baby, she's got you in her sights!

"Makes sense if you know her history. She had to fill in for her mommy, now you're 'Lord of the Manor' and there's a part of her that's looking for you to fill in for your dad. You know; like father, like daughter."

MAN: "You know, I think I've pegged out on my weird-o-meter... hit my crazy quota for the day, soooo... I'm just going to hang up now..."

WOMAN: "No you're not, lover, because I'm just hitting the sweet spot, ain't I? The juicy bit. The chewy center.

"So here's the thing; your MILFy mom may want to be your Mrs. Robinson... problem is... she can't close the deal; she's too fucked up. God knows she knows how to... and deep down, she still wants to... it's just... she can't. You know that old saying, 'You wear a mask long enough, it becomes your face'? Well, that's your poor old mom; a raging whore, neutered by years of respectability.

"Not me. All those nasty things she's got you wanting to do, I can do for you, baby. You don't need her... her and her fake morals and pretend piety. You don't need all her baggage and head-trips.

MAN: "Head trips, huh? Seriously?"

WOMAN: "I know you want her, baby -- you always have. I understand and its okay. But she's just a dick-tease, baby. She's like porn; she's not real. Me, I'm the real deal. You want her -- then take me.

"You know me, lover; simple and sweet as cheery pie, wild as Friday night. I'll do any nasty thing your perverted little mind can think of... everything she can't bring herself to do anymore."

MAN: "Simple. Right."

WOMAN: "I'm telling you, she's like an old toothless dog; she sees the meat, starts to drool, but as much as she wants to, as hard as she tries, she just can't chew it. It's pathetic, really."

MAN: "But you can..."

WOMAN: "Your damn right I can. You want to play the 'mommy game'? I can do that. I can do it even better than her. Hell, you won't be able to tell the two of us apart.

MAN: "Trust me; I'm already there..."

WOMAN: "Yeah...YEAH! You can pretend I'm Constance and you can use me like a whore. Yeah. I'll get dressed up in her expensive, conservative, and boring clothes and I'll greet you at the door with that same plastic grin she always wears. Then you grab me and throw me up against the wall and tear open my blouse and I'll look all shocked and gasp, 'My god, Son, what are you doing! I'm your mother!'

"And you'll say something like, 'Shut up, bitch; tonight you're just my whore!' Then you'll kiss me -- hard and rough, raping my mouth with your tongue... as you pull my tit free, squeezing it painfully... pinching my nipple until I scream into your mouth.

"Next you bend me over the sofa, pull my skirt up to my waist, exposing my panty covered ass. Of course I'm wearing a garterbelt and stockings, like a proper slut. You like that naughty lingerie, don't you, stud?"

MAN: "[Laughing] Yeah... yeah, I do..."

WOMAN: "Yeah, you do... I remember. Meanwhile, I'll be squirming and struggling... as if I wasn't exactly where I wanted to be... saying stuff like, 'What's wrong with you? You can't do this -- I'm your mother!'

"Well, you just rip those panties off me and start spanking my big fat ass... hard. And I'm crying and begging you to stop... as if I'm not getting off on it. But you notice that every time you stop, I start wiggling my butt -- like I'm daring you to continue.

"Finally you do stop, and my rump is glowing like a cigar tip, and I'm just weeping like a willow, mumbling, 'Please, Son, stop, please stop..." You just ignore me and reach between my legs... which for some reason, I've spread pretty wide... and cup my bald pussy with your hand.

"Yeah; hairless and smooth as a baby's bottom, like a good little slut. I know what boys like.

"I'm moaning, saying, 'This is wrong, this is so wrong, Son,' but you notice I don't make a move to get up or get away. You shove two fingers in me, and I shout, 'Oh, god, Son, don't!' but of course, I'm so wet I'm dripping all over the place. You give me a brutal finger fucking, forcing me to cum even as I scream, 'I'm your mother -- this is a sin! A sin!'

"Then you take all that girl-juice I've just squirted out, spread my cheeks and start rubbing it around my bunghole while I say something stupid like, 'What are you doing? Not there! Oh god, Son, not there! That's sick!' You just slap my ass hard and growl, 'Shut the fuck up, cunt!'

I just whimper and sob while you finger-fuck my ass with one, then two and finally three fingers. I'm blubbering, but still afraid to talk... afraid you'll hit me... afraid you'll stop. You put the head of your cock up against my stretched-out backdoor, and I blurt out, "Please! Please don't do this, not to your own mother! Don't... don't... defile me like this... your own mother...'