Favela Pt. 02

She could remember her first month of work vividly, how she had cried constantly from the pain, how she went home with numb wrists and bleeding palms. She had wrapped her own wounds, she had persevered. Now she swung her clippers effortlessly as though they were tweezers, snapping the sixteen millimeter thick steel rods like bread sticks. Olivia was strong, even the men she worked with gave her begrudging respect, and she knew she could snap their necks just as easily if they crossed her.

All these things rushed through her mind as she mulled over her mother's words. "That's good." She replied coolly. "Because it wouldn't be any fun for me if you enjoyed what I'm about to have you do." She laughed bitterly. This whole charade was one big elaborate lie, and yet, it seemed like all she could do was tell the truth. She was a little hurt, there was no denying it.

It wasn't really that she wanted her mom to find her attractive, it was more that she also had a feminine side too, and it felt like Marcella was walking all over it. "You gave your daughter new underwear and turned her into a pretty whore for me, but we both know who is the real slut in your house. You're desperate for sex, so desperate you'd do anything. You've been good so I'll give you a little reward. I'll give you a taste of what you so desperately desire."

Olivia grinned, she hadn't really made up her mind until now, she'd only been toying with the thought; but her mom's rude comments had pushed her over the edge. She placed her right hand resolutely over her crotch, her new panties were magical, her fingertips tingled as she touched the slippery material. With an incongruent tenderness she slowly stroked her vulva through her underwear, pushing the center seam a little into herself. She moaned softly, resisting the urge to rush.

"You're going to steal your daughter's dirty panties. Find the ones she was wearing most recently. The ones she took off when she put on the new ones you gave her." Olivia glanced towards the corner of her closet-sized room, her old panties were there, a rumpled lewd little ball, looking more forlorn than ever. Olivia let out a sharp little moan as she typed the next line, her cunt was really heating up, the rising warmth felt wonderful as it crept into her cool finger tips.

"Take her dirty panties and turn them inside out, then put the filthy crotch fully into your slutty mouth. The whole thing, every millimeter. Then I want you to take a picture so I know that you obeyed me. Your entire face, I need to see your eyes, your look of total submission. Leave them in your mouth until all you can taste is your daughter's dirty pussy." Olivia was panting, despite her best efforts, her delicate touch had become slightly less delicate.

She started to get a little dizzy, the fact that she was actually writing these outrageous words to her mother filled her belly with writhing snakes of ecstasy and terror, fighting to the death in the murky, muddy depths of her darkest emotions. In a moment of clarity she found herself pondering the source of her overpowering excitement. Was it her mother's humiliation? Was it this strange and twisted sense of intimacy she felt? Or was it just the sheer act of unbridled domination?

"With her panties still in your mouth, I want you to masturbate until you come." She barely finished the final line because she started coming herself. Olivia clenched and ground her teeth until her jaw ached, her breathing roared in and out of her nose, her ears rang. Her body curled into the fetal position and she spasmed over and over as the cascading orgasm had its way with her. She didn't even bother trying to get hold of her phone, which had fallen next to hear head.

Five minutes later she broke out of her daze, her whole body buzzed. Deliriously she reached out and picked up her phone, her stomach growled loudly and she realized how ravenously hungry she had become. Anxiously she scanned the chat. There was nothing, Marcella hadn't made any kind of reply, Olivia swallowed hard and struggled to heave her light-headed body upright. She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the screen, waiting.

Nothing, but the chat was still active, Marcella had not disconnected.