The Ravencroft Women Pt. 03

"Ok, big brother," she said in an ominous tone. "I'll prove it to you."

"What? How?" I said. And then, when she started tapping on her phone out of nowhere, "Wait, are you calling him?"

"No," she said distractedly. "I'm checking the time in Taiwan."

"...What? What does that have to do with Noah?" I said, but Isabelle was too busy muttering to herself to notice.

"It's 12 hours ahead...and she usually works late so...Hey!" she said, suddenly addressing me. "Are you working tomorrow?"

"No," I said with a frown. "But why?"

"Perfect!" she said, ignoring my question again. "I'll come back here tomorrow at around noon. Then I'll prove to you that I don't have a boyfriend. Deal?"

"Isabe-," I began, but stopped myself when she gave me a dirty look. "Izzy, you lost me a few seconds ago. I don't even know what I'm agreeing to."

"That's fine, big brother," she said. "Everything will make sense tomorrow. I promise." Then, after giving me a quick kiss on the cheek, she grabbed her bag and walked over to my front door. "See you soon," she said and, just like that, she was gone.

However, she wasn't done with me just yet. A few minutes after she left, she called my phone.

"Forget something?" I said as I answered.

"Yeah, I forgot to ask you something. Do you have any hobbies?"

I frowned at the random question. "Hobbies?"

"Yeah. Like things you do for fun."

"Well, you saw my apartment," I said. "All I really have are my T.V and my phone. That's pretty much where all my free time goes."

"So there's nothing else?"

"Nope," I said. But then I remembered something. "Actually, one of my old neighbours had a PS5. He used to let me come over and play it sometimes. That was fun."

"Okay, PS5, got it," she said. "Any game in particular?"

"Call of Duty," I said. Then I remembered the incident with the refrigerator. "Hey! You're not gonna by me a PS5, are you!?"

Isabelle laughed but she didn't answer. She just told me to have a nice day and hung up on me. I was just about to call her back when my phone buzzed in my hand. It was a text from Isabelle.

'Thanks for answering my question, big brother. Here's your reward!'

Just as I was wondering what the hell she meant by 'reward', Isabelle sent me a picture of a woman in a bikini. I was so caught of guard that it took me a few seconds to realize that the woman was her mother. After that, Isabelle started flooding my phone, sending picture after picture of Emelia in different outfits. I was still so stunned at how a woman her age could look so fucking amazing that I overlooked the strangeness of her daughter sending me pictures of her. And, once Isabelle ran out of those, she moved on to sending me videos.

The first one I opened showed Emelia walking around at the same party where she wore the red gown, and seeing her in motion did something to me that the photos couldn't. I watched as she roamed about the party, hypnotized by the gentle sway of her hips and the way her round ass moved back and forth. She was so graceful and feminine. For the first time, I found myself wondering if Bartholomew had been exaggerating about how 'fearsome' she was. That impression persisted to the next video I opened that showed Emelia pulling Isabelle into a hug only to start tickling her mercilessly. She really didn't seem that intimidating at all. She was actually kind of wholesome in a cougar-ish kind of way.

But then I opened the third video...

"Enough..."

I flinched away from my phone as Emelia's calm, yet clearly angry voice cut through the silence of my apartment. She was standing in an office, looking very professional in a white blouse and black slacks, as she spoke into a cellphone in a tone so cold and menacing that it gave me chills.

"Now you listen to me, you son of a bitch. You are going to honour the terms of our agreement or, so help me god, I'll rip your fucking cock off and mount it on my wall. And that's after I buy your pathetic little company and turn it into a Starbucks. Do I make myself clear?"

The fact that her calm rage was even affecting me through the video said a lot about how imposing she was. You couldn't pay me to switch places with whoever was on the other of that phone call. Just as I was sympathizing with the poor guy, Emelia suddenly turned toward the camera, appearing to look directly at me. I nearly dropped my phone.

"Izzy," said Emelia, sounding much less threatening. "Are you recording me?"

The sound of Isabelle's playful laughter was the last thing I heard before the video ended.

"Jesus Christ," I said as I recovered from the little shock I'd just received. Bartholomew had been completely wrong about this woman. She wasn't fearsome. She was fucking terrifying. And here I was fucking her daughter. Just as I was considering the possibility that I might be putting my life at risk by getting involved with Isabelle, she sent me one more video.

In it, Emelia was sitting on the beach wearing the same bikini I'd seen in the photos. She was watching the waves as they rolled upon shore, stopping just short of her feet. She was gorgeous, and the light of the setting sun only seemed to highlight that natural beauty.

Just as in the last video, Emelia turned and looked directly into the camera but it didn't surprise me this time. Instead, I felt this strange yet pleasant feeling in my stomach. Almost like butterflies, but not exactly. It might have been the strong contrast created by the clear anger she'd displayed in the previous video, but seeing her at ease like this had a calming effect on me. However, when she rose and started walking toward the person holding the camera, I became distracted by her breathtaking body and the way her large breasts bounced slightly with each step she took.

"Again, Izzy?" she asked with a playful smile on her lips. "Didn't you get enough pictures earlier?"

"This isn't a picture. It's a video," said Isabelle.

"A video, huh?" Emelia said with a smirk. "You know, most girls your age would prefer to have the camera pointed at them?"

"Most girls my age don't have a mom that looks like you," Isabelle quipped.

"Oh, is that so," said Emelia, sounding amused. "Well, is there anything you'd like me to do?"

I was still ogling every inch of Emelia's body but, in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but feel like there was something odd about this exchange. Everything from the look in Emelia's eyes to the tone in their voices just seemed out of place for a mother and daughter. As a matter of fact, it almost sounded like they were flirting with each other. And it only got worse when Isabelle answered her mother's question.

"Turn around," she said. "Let me see that ass."

My eyes went wide. Although Isabelle had said it in a playful way, I just couldn't shake the weird feeling I was getting. And the smug, knowing smile Emelia gave in response wasn't helping, either. She did as her daughter asked, turning away from the camera with slow, deliberate movements. Like a stripper putting on a show. Then she pulled her long hair over her shoulder, revealing her slender but toned back and her amazing ass.

At some point, I began unconsciously stroking my cock over my pants as I watched her. Emelia was so sexy that it was almost criminal. Almost enough to make me forget about the strangeness of the situation.

"What now, miss director?" said Emelia as she looked over her shoulder at her daughter.

There was a brief pause before Isabelle said, "Your top...Take it off."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I said out loud, but it was drowned out by the sound of Emelia's delighted laughter.

Without a moment's hesitation, I saw her hands come up behind her and untie the strings of her bikini top before casting it aside, leaving her completely topless. She then turned to the camera again but, frustratingly enough, she was using her hands to cover her exposed nipples. For me, it was still amazing to be able to see so much of her braless breasts, but Isabelle wasn't satisfied.

"Move your hands," she said.

"Turn of the camera," Emelia replied with a smirk.

"Move your hands," Isabelle repeated.

"Turn off the camera."

The two of them went silent after that, appearing to stare each other down in some weird battle of wills. And that's when I saw it. A wide, dirty grin, very similar to the one I so often saw on Isabelle, began spreading across Emelia's face and, a moment later, the video abruptly ended.

I stood there in silence for a little while afterward before hitting play on the video and watching it again. Then I watched it a third time. But each viewing left me feeling more and more confused. What I initially thought was flirting sounded more like playful banter the more I listened to it, and it wouldn't have surprised me to find that Emelia had the same twisted sense of humour as her daughter. However, I found the end of the video harder to explain away.

When Isabelle was demanding that Emelia reveal her breasts, she didn't sound playful at all; she sounded frustrated. And Emelia looked and sounded like she was thoroughly enjoying that frustration. The way she smiled just before the video ended; that was not the way a mother smiles at her daughter.

The entire thing was strange as hell. But the only thing stranger was how much it was turning me on. Emelia was a beautiful and formidable woman. Imagining her doing something kinky like fucking her sex demon of a daughter was enough to make me pitch a tent in my pants. Even if it turned out I was completely wrong about their relationship, it was still fun to think about.

And so, I hit play on the video and watched it again, but this time with my cock in my hand.

***

The next day, I was in my 'kitchen' getting a snack from my now overstocked fridge when my intercom rang. I looked at the time. 12 o' clock on the dot.

"Hello?" I said as I pushed the button. A second later, Isabelle responded sounding like she was bouncing up and down with excitement.

"It's me! Come on! Buzz me up! Buzz me up!"

"Alright. Shit. Take it easy," I said before letting her in.

Barely a minute later, Isabelle was banging on my door like a mad woman. She must have sprinted up the stairs to get here that fast. I opened my door, mostly to stop her from knocking and found her grinning at me from ear to ear.

Today, she was wearing a simple black dress that stopped just above her knees. It was surprisingly modest for her. But just as I had that thought, I realised that she wasn't wearing a bra. And, knowing Isabelle, the same was probably true for her panties.

"Hi, big brother," she said as she casually pushed her way into my apartment. You would think that the drama from yesterday was nothing more than a dream. I still didn't like having her here, but I felt less inclined to kick her out now that she'd already seen it. Besides, she didn't seem bothered by the state of the place any more.

"Alright, Izzy, " I said as I closed the door and folded my arms. "Where is this proof you promised me?"

Isabelle had been helping herself to the snack I'd made when she suddenly turned and looked at me with a thoughtful expression.

"Are you still mad at me about yesterday?"

"What? No. Why?"

"The way you're saying my name. It just sounds... different from how you said it back at the estate."

I raised my eyebrows in mild surprise. She was pretty sharp. Even though I had gone back to calling her 'Izzy', I was still calling her 'Isabelle' in my head. Technically, that meant I wasn't holding up my end of our new agreement, but that was hard to do when part of me was worried that I might be helping her cheat on her boyfriend. Fortunately, and surprisingly, Isabelle didn't make too big of a deal out of it.

"Well, whatever," she said. "We can talk about that later. You wanted proof that I don't have a boyfriend so I'm going to give it to you." Then she sat on my couch and patted the space next to her invitingly. "Come on, sit."

I frowned at her but did as she asked. Once I was seated, she pulled out a pair of wireless earbuds and stuck them in her ears before taking out her phone.

"Wait," I said, "are you really gonna call him this time?"

Isabelle didn't answer me. She just gave me a weird mischievous smirk before making her call. I tried to get a look at the screen of her phone to see if she really was calling Noah, but she pulled it away before I could, her grin growing even wider. That grin didn't leave her face as she happily rocked back and forth next to me, causing an uneasy feeling to grow in the pit of my stomach. As if something were trying to warn me that I was in danger. A moment later, when Isabelle suddenly stopped moving, I found out what that danger was. She looked at me, her grin growing impossibly wider, and said two terrifying words...

"Hi, mom."

My eyes went wide and I leapt to my feet, causing Isabelle to stifle a fit of laughter.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I hissed, but she ignored me.

"No, I'm okay," she said as she played with her hair. "I'm just hanging out at my friend's place.

"..."

"Yes, that friend." Then, Isabelle turned to me and said something even more terrifying.

"Hey, you wanna talk to him?"

'What in the actual fuck is wrong with this crazy bitch?' I thought as I began backing away from her like she was an open flame. After watching Emelia verbally castrate that guy in the video Isabelle sent me yesterday, the last thing I wanted to do was talk to her as the guy who was currently fucking her daughter. I was waving my hands in front of me and mouthing the word 'no' over and over again when the smile on Isabelle's face suddenly wilted. For a moment I thought I'd gotten through to her, but the next words out of her mouth told me otherwise.

"Hello?... Mom, are you there?" she said, her voice sounding worried as her eyes drifted down to the floor. Then, after a short pause, she said, "You don't want to?"

A wave of relief washed over me at the sound of those beautiful words. It looked like I wasn't the only one who was less than impressed with Isabelle's antics.

"...I'm sorry," she said. "I just thought that you'd..."

Isabelle sounded so hesitant and apologetic. Even though I was glad things were turning out this way, I couldn't help but feel bad for her. I guess she really fucked up by springing this on her mom. I was about to turn my back on her to give them some semblance of privacy, but then everything changed. I don't know what her mother said to her but, Isabelle's eyes suddenly went wide and that bright smile returned with a vengeance.

"Really?!" she said with the excitement of a child. "Okay! Just wait one second!" Then she removed one of her earbuds and held it out to me. "Here. Put it in."

Emelia, my only supposed ally in this madness, had abandoned me. Now the only thing standing between me and what might be the most awkward conversation of my life was the space separating me from that earbud. I eyed it like it was a poisonous snake hissing at me from the palm of her hand.

"What are you doing, Nathan," she said, sounding a little impatient. "Come on, take it."

I had nowhere to run but I was still desperate to escape the situation. I wracked my brain for an excuse; something that would get me out of this situation. I even considered making a tactical retreat by fleeing my own apartment. However, Isabelle took every option away from me with her next words.

"...Nathan," she said in a calm but firm tone, "you're being rude to Mom..."

With that, I was truly backed into a corner. The only thing I could do was take a deep breath and hope that Emelia was in a good mood. After returning to my place next to Isabelle on the couch, I took the earbud and reluctantly put it in my ear. Once it was in, Isabelle began silently encouraging me to say something. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why the fuck she was so anxious for this to happen, but it was going to happened whether I liked it or not? So, after one more steadying breath, I threw myself to the lions.

"Um... Hello, Mrs. Ravencroft," I said awkwardly. "...I'm Nathan."

After I offered that shaky greeting, I was met with several seconds of pure silence. I turned to Isabelle thinking that this might have been some kind of prank, but that theory was quickly proven wrong. I found her listening intently as she stared at the floor. Whatever this was, it wasn't what she had been expecting. I was just about to ask her if the call might have been dropped when I finally heard something.

A long sigh came from the earbud, as if Emilia had been holding her breath this entire time. When she spoke, rather than being cold and intimidating as I had anticipated, her voice was soft and trembling with an unknown emotion.

"...Hello, Nathan," she said, finally. "How are you, sweetie?"

'Sweetie', I thought. 'Why the fuck is she calling me 'sweetie'? And why does she sound like she's about to cry?'

I turned to Isabelle in confusion but, the moment I made that movement, she abruptly turned away from me and left me staring at the back of her head. However, I did manage to get a brief glimpse of her face before she'd looked away and, although it might have been my eyes playing tricks on me, I could have sworn that I saw tears in her eyes.

"Um... I'm fine, thanks," I said as I eyed Isabelle. "What about you? Are you...feeling okay?"

"Yes... I'm okay, sweetie" she said after another conspicuous pause. "I'm just a little tired. That's all. It's a bit late here."

I wasn't buying it. She was doing a great job of hiding it, but I could still tell that she was choked up over something. I just didn't know what. I became even more certain of this when I stole another glance at Isabelle. She was facing forward again. She wasn't crying as I had thought, but her eyes did appear to be strangely red.

"It's wonderful to finally speak to you, Nathan," said Emelia, drawing my attention back to the call. I thought it was an odd thing for her to say, especially considering that, just a moment ago, she didn't appear to want to talk to me.

"Um... I don't really know what to say to that, ma'am," I said with a nervous laugh. Emelia laughed as well, a surprisingly light-hearted sound, and became a bit more relaxed.

"You're adorable," she said, and I couldn't detect an ounce of sarcasm in her voice. "Well, why don't you try telling me a bit about yourself?"

"Well...I mean...I'm afraid there's not much to tell, ma'am," I said.

"Humor me," she said pleasantly. "I just want to know what kind of person my daughter is spending her time with. And please, stop calling me 'ma'am'. You're making me feel old. My name is Emelia."

"Um...," I said, turning to Isabelle for help and finding none. She just stared back at me with a look on her face that said "Go on. Talk." Realizing that I was backed into a corner once again, I took a deep breath and prepared myself to tell this billionaire businesswoman that her daughter was hanging out with a till monkey.

"I... work at 7-Eleven. Been there for about 3 years now," I said. "No kids. I try to stay out of trouble. Just a regular guy, really..."

During the awkward pause after I stopped talking, Isabelle suddenly jabbed me in the side with her elbow.

"Ow! What the fuck?!" I said, forgetting that her mother could hear me.

"Tell her what you told me yesterday," said Isabelle. When I gaped at her in disbelief, she elbowed me again. "Come on, she's waiting."

"But why do I have to go that far?" I protested. "Can't you tell her yourself later?"

"Nathan," said Emelia, in a calm but firm voice. "I would prefer to hear about you from your own mouth, if it's not too much to ask."

Even though it sounded like she was making a request, there was something about the way she said it that made me feel like refusing wasn't an option. It was the same way Isabelle had spoken to me several times, but, with Emelia, it was so refined and subtle that I almost didn't realize she was doing it. So, now that I was stuck between these two equally insistent women, I found myself reliving my unpleasant childhood for the second day in a row.