Favela Pt. 03

Olivia languidly peeled off the rest of her sweat-soaked clothes, but left on her new underwear. Untangling her bandoleer from her top and draping it around her neck like a scarf, she got off the bed and strutted over to her dresser. She was feeling more content and relaxed than she had in years, despite her rumbling stomach. Rummaging through her clothes she found herself digging all the way to the very back of the long middle drawer, her 'boneyard' of old and forgotten things.

As she found what she was looking for she experienced a strange pang of nostalgia, mixed with an inexplicable yet intense awareness of her long-neglected femininity; it stirred restlessly inside her. She held up the only dress she had ever owned, her mother had given it to her when she was still a girl, it had trailed down to her ankles then, billowing around her middle like a fluffy cloud. The memory was vivid, a happier, gentler time.

The white variegated fabric was smudged and stained in several places, it seemed so strikingly thin and fragile she worried she might tear it with her ragged fingernails. Olivia shrugged and pulled the bottom down cautiously over her head. It wasn't loose anymore, with delight she realized that it fit her well, she had grown into it. The hem came to rest just above the tops of her knees, the middle was cinched tightly around her waist. The material didn't just feel thin, she could see the vague shadowy outline of her underwear underneath.

Olivia left her room, walking slowly so that she could enjoy the sensual swishing of the dress as it brushed coolly against her skin. She left her door ajar, an invitation of sorts, and headed towards the kitchen. There was a large bundle of tamales in the fridge along with a bag of goat's milk, she helped herself to three and a full aluminum pint of the slightly sour liquid. She ate them cold, it was sweltering inside, too hot for hot food, the milk seemed to curdle before she had even finished the first swallow.

A sudden noise caused her to jump, the fridge door opened creakily behind her, she whipped around in shock. Marcella casually took out the milk and poured some for herself, adding a shot of her homemade liquor. "M-mom!?" Olivia could not remember the last time she had seen her mother in the kitchen. Marcella turned her head slowly, her eyes filmy but also glinting wildly, she grinned bashfully but did not lower her eyes or look away.

"Hi baby." She sat down. "I thought you'd be asleep." She added, sipping her milk gingerly and then grimacing at the first taste. Olivia stared blankly at her mother's chest, she was sitting at the opposite end of the table, it was just a small card table, but at that moment it felt a mile long.

"I got hungry." She croaked, clapping her mouth shut and cringing at the sound of her own raspy voice.

"A midnight snack." Marcella nodded, glancing at the clock Olivia noted that coincidentally it was actually midnight. "I remember when I was still young, I would wake up ravenous and need to eat before I could go back to sleep. Back then we had all kinds of things in the fridge: exotic meats, real chocolate cake, fresh vegetables from as far away as Antarctica. You were just a baby then." She looked sad, but only for a split-second.

Olivia found herself salivating, she tried to imagine the taste of real chocolate. The stuff she got at the bazaar was synthetic. The cocoa plant had been extinct for decades. "Mom, does the synthetic chocolate taste like the real thing?" She blurted out plaintively. Marcella's face wrinkled in a patronizing way as though she were laughing at her daughter's naïveté, but also pitying her lack of experience.

"No, but..." She held up her glass of goat's milk. "Real chocolate tastes like cow's milk in the same way that synth tastes like this." Olivia scowled, she'd never tasted cow's milk either and her mom must have known it, she was teasing her cruelly. But then Marcella flashed her daughter a beguiling grin. "That dress is making me nostalgic, I didn't know you still had it hidden away. You're lucky, I would have sold it.

I never told you but it was a gift from your grandmother, the material is rayon, it's made from real wood. I wouldn't wear it outside unless you want to disappear. The Favelos will kill you in the street and take it off your dead body. That much rayon, probably worth 40,000 to a collector." Olivia was speechless, she glanced down at her dress and swallowed hard. 40,000? She could live for three years on that, opulently. Marcella interrupted her growing excitement. "Don't even think about it filha."

Olivia nearly snarled, her mother hadn't called her that in years. Here she was getting all familiar, as if she could just phase in and out of her daughter's life, call her pet names from her childhood. Even so, Marcella's face contorted with genuine concern, it was just for a moment but it felt like someone threw a bucket of cold water on her smoldering anger. "No one would fence that for you in the Favela, they would slit your throat instead, it's what we call intocável, untouchable."

Olivia begrudgingly bowed to her mother's superior knowledge of the Favela's seedy underbelly, she was a junky but she wasn't an idiot, she worked in the Bazaar and knew most of its dark secrets. "Besides." Her mother remarked, a whimsical smile turning up one corner of her wide mouth. "It looks like it was made for you, my filha has finally grown into a beautiful young woman." She pretended to wipe away an invisible tear. The other side of her mouth joined the first, forming a dirty grin that made Olivia's heart skip a beat.

"Not to mention it goes so well with your new underwear." Olivia blushed, she didn't need to glance down to know that the way she was sitting with the dress wrapped tightly around her legs and ass, its partial-translucency would reveal everything underneath. "When I was a girl we had these things called 'slips' that we wore under our skirts, to keep things from showing." Olivia shrugged, glancing down automatically and noticing more by feel than with her eyes that her nipples were hard, they showed up as she shifted; pale brown circles clearly visible even in the dim light of the bioluminescent tubes.

Marcella licked her lips and pushed back her chair. "Don't get me wrong, I wasn't saying it bothered me, and I know you're not dumb enough to wear that dress outside. I just thought you might find it interesting how the world used to be." She started to leave but then turned her head for a backward glance. "I hope you never outgrow that dress." Olivia puzzled over her mom's parting comment, honestly she was pretty confused about a lot of things, her own feelings perhaps most of all.

She waited, her food was finished, she stared at her empty plate and counted seconds. Olivia sighed, despite her plethora of doubts she now had a potent weapon, an oracle after a fashion. She straightened her bandoleer, swinging it into its natural position, her phone felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket but she resisted the urge to take it out. She wanted to retain some control, it wouldn't be good if she let her emotions dictate her actions, that was Marcella's downfall.

To pass the time she pictured her pathetic mother sneaking into her room, frantically searching. Olivia hadn't bothered to retrieve her dirty panties and place them somewhere more obvious, she'd left them in the corner of her room. It was possible that Marcella would overlook them somehow or even worse, take some other random pair from her dresser. The truth was, Olivia's made-up Romeo wouldn't know the difference.

She'd counted to 300, she was being generous. Olivia pushed back her chair loudly and got to her feet, stubbornly she hesitated. Her mother might still be in her room, it would be super-awkward if she caught her in the act, but then again that could also be fun in its own way. On the other hand, there was a part of her that desperately wanted Marcella to find the little gift she'd left behind. She wanted to give her mom every opportunity to prove how devoted she was to Mr. Right.

Soon she was laughing quietly, her count had stopped at 400, she decided it was time. "Ready or not." She breathed, pushing in her chair and pivoting neatly towards the doorway. She walked even slower than normal, the house was strangely quiet. In the murk of the hallway she could make out the entrance to her room, a pale ray of light stabbed through the slight crack. It looked exactly like she'd left it, had Marcella even been inside?

Tentatively she nudged open her door and wandered in. Her room was empty, and it was still a mess. Her heart thudded in her chest as she tiptoed over to the other side of her bed. Olivia clapped both hands over her mouth, suppressing a squeal. The moonlight pouring in through the skylight was painting a long silver rectangle that spilled over the floor and crawled up both walls, it lit up everything around it like a floodlight.

But there was nothing there. The corner of her room was conspicuously bare, an expanse of naked milky-white plastic, her panties were gone. Thrilled to the core Olivia dove for her bed and wormed her way under the covers, only pausing long enough to pinch her phone as she shucked her bandoleer off her body and over the bedpost. Enveloped by blankets she pulled the covers over her head and cradled her phone reverently in her hands.

The chat window was still blank. She debated sending a message, but after careful consideration decided against it. Better for her mother to think that her 'man' had zero-tolerance for disobedience and never expected his commands to be questioned. Marcella had probably been thinking along similar lines herself, choosing not to reply as a manipulative way to encourage 'him' to send more messages.

For reasons she couldn't identify Olivia found herself becoming aroused. The realization that she was getting turned on only intensified each and every unexpected sensation. Even though she was doing nothing but staring blankly at a black screen, her cunt was tingling, her breasts felt swollen and sensitive, her hard nipples dug fitfully into the mattress. Time seemed to stand still, she took long deep breaths and shivered despite being uncomfortably hot.

Olivia almost screamed in surprise as her screen flashed so brightly that her eyes felt like they'd been stabbed with needles. She blinked rapidly, turning her head away. Deep in her guts she felt a spasm that was almost an orgasm, but wasn't. She had experienced a moment of pure terror, but her brain had confused it with her sexual thoughts, they had become entangled somehow.

She grunted, then started panting, it almost felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. Her eyes were still stinging but she could focus them if she squinted. The phone bathed her face with a warm bewitching light, as she perceived the subject of the photo her crotch began to quiver and melt, she spread her legs reflexively. "Oh my god." She hissed, something hot and thick trickled between her labia.

The picture was nothing fantastical, it was just Marcella's face, oddly Olivia was struck by her mother's ethereal beauty, it was as though she had never really seen her before. Then she realized this was partially true, she had never seen this particular expression. It was Marcella's orgasm face. Her skin glowed, it radiated unknowable pleasure, her sweat-spotted cheeks were flushed so heavily that even her faint freckles which were normally lost amidst her dark palette glistened like a miniature milky way spattered over her stubby nose.

Olivia swallowed hard, using her fingers to zoom in. The detail was incredible. In the middle of everything, so unavoidable that her eyes struggled to see around them: Olivia's dirty underwear, the very same pair she'd worn the previous day. They were inside out just like she'd instructed, and the crotch was stuffed completely inside Marcella's mouth. Her mom was wearing lipstick, a dark reddish purple, she must have put it on just for the photo. Olivia didn't know her mom even owned lipstick, it was illegal after all.

"Fuck." Olivia breathed out the word, her mind went blank. She had unconsciously turned her phone sideways and was now staring directly into her mom's brilliant hazel eyes. Marcella was normally pretty intense, but this was on a whole different level. The junkie glaze was gone, replaced by an impish sparkle, masking a deeper unshakable confidence that sent all of Olivia's delusions of domination tumbling. "What have I gotten myself into." She mumbled.

Olivia let the revulsion roll through her body in waves. "What have I done?" She moaned. She had never expected any of this, least of all for her mother to do the crazy things she asked. The longer she looked at the image the deeper she slipped into shock. She felt extremely sick, but it wasn't having any effect on her aching crotch. She didn't dare move, she was terrified that even shifting her weight might trigger an orgasm. The thought alone almost pushed her over the edge.

"What is wrong with me?!" She hissed, desperately willing her heart to stop pounding in her chest. Slowly her breathing returned to normal, her eyes focused. Olivia noticed she had been drooling, there was a small puddle on her pillow just below her chin. Her eyes followed as her thumb urged the image upward and safely out of sight, it was captioned by some text, she read it cautiously; hoping against hope that it wouldn't contain anything erotic.

"You'd better be enjoying this. It was not easy. None of it." Olivia tried to understand the vague implications of Marcella's words, but as usual she couldn't tell if she was being indirectly insulted or not. It did bother her though that her mother didn't seem to behave very consistently, and before she could even register the act, her thumbs had typed and sent a response.

"Are you sassing me?" It said. She stared blankly at her own words. She was furiously angry, she could feel it rising rapidly like lava, bubbling and burning its way through her confusion. Her arousal had ebbed, and been replaced by a cavernous hollow longing. What had she expected really? Was she just lashing out, recklessly punishing and humiliating her mom, pushing her farther away, or was she forcing Marcella to confront the painful reality of a daughter she didn't seem to want anymore?

She ignored the hot tears that ran down her cheeks, a reply had come through. "I'm sorry. I'm being a bad girl. Maybe you need to make me do more naughty things?" Olivia snorted bitterly, Marcella was no fool, even posing as a submissive she was too smart to be satisfied with simplistic mind games. Here she was being slippery and subversive, subliminally patronizing 'him' while she attempted to undermine his authority and mindfuck her way back into the driver's seat.

"If only you were doing this with anyone else." Olivia murmured icily. "But you're not, you're doing it with me." She grinned, her confidence had been creeping steadily back. She ignored Marcella's blatant baiting. "I love the picture, the lipstick was a nice touch. Speaking of enjoyment, it looked like you were in heaven." She hit send but didn't stop typing. "You said it wasn't easy, but your eyes tell a different story." There was a little hitch that made Olivia smirk, then her mom replied.

"I had to sneak into her room in the middle of the night." It felt flimsy, overly dramatic, like her mother was trying to come up with convincing sounding excuses and failing. Suddenly Olivia felt like she understood something that she had been overlooking until now thanks to an unfamiliar flash of female intuition.

"You enjoyed it though, didn't you? Sneaking around in your daughter's room, it excited you..." The second unfinished question was rhetorical, she felt like she already knew the answer, it was as though she could feel it. Maybe she could feel it, they did share some of the same genes after all. There was a long pause then a rush of words.

"I was scared at first. Terrified, but I didn't know why. You wouldn't get it, my daughter and I barely talk, I keep to myself. When I went into her room and started looking through her stuff I didn't recognize anything, they were the clothes of a stranger. The harder I looked the more I started to panic. I thought I might scream or faint so I did the only thing I could think of. I tried to trick myself into thinking I was stealing from someone I didn't know."

Olivia read and reread her mom's message, but before she could read it a third time more text began streaming onto her screen. "The fear went away instantly. My heart was still hammering in my chest but instead of terror I felt triumphant, I was a shadow, a ghost gliding through the night, I could go anywhere, do anything. Then like a sign from Deus the moonlight came through the skylight and I could see right in the corner just what I was looking for. I felt such excitement..."

The message trailed off. Olivia stared fixedly at the ellipse, pondering what mysteries it might hold. "Please don't stop." She begged the stifling humid air. Olivia exhaled sharply as the display flickered back to life and Marcella continued her rambling account.

"I keep saying that I did not know why I was feeling these things, and it's true. I was standing in that moonlight holding the panties you saw in the picture. I knew they belonged to my daughter, but I was telling myself they belonged to someone else. Did I feel guilt? Or maybe self-disgust? As an act of submission and obedience it filled me with a pleasant sensual glow I could feel everywhere in my body. But it all paled, it was all just background noise by comparison."

Another lengthy pause, Olivia's hands were trembling. What the fuck was her mother talking about!? Comparison to what? Her thumbs almost started typing on their own but she stopped herself, it was clear that Marcella was in the mood to talk, all Olivia had to do was keep her mouth shut and wait. The seconds ticked by but she didn't lose faith. Her patience was rewarded.

"I had forgotten something about myself. I had been running away for so long that it had gotten buried under a mountain of regret. I remembered that I loved my daughter. I don't know if this will mean anything to you, but at that moment in time it meant everything to me. I remembered other things too though, things not as nice. I'm not sure if she loves me anymore, I wouldn't be surprised if she hated me. But I doubt you care much about that."

Olivia typed without thinking. "I do care." She hit the send button so fast her knuckle made a loud snapping sound. Her mother was still typing though and didn't seem to notice Olivia's response.

"No. I know what you care about, and you're in luck. It wasn't just love I felt in that magic moment. Submission has many sides, but for me the strongest aspect has always been to make amends. When I realized how I'd wronged my daughter I felt an overpowering need and desire to submit to her in some way. I was holding her dirty underwear and immediately started thinking about your commands. I became so sexually aroused my knees nearly gave out.

My fear came back stronger than before, I pictured her catching me in her room, trying to explain myself. I left as quickly and quietly as possible. When I got back to my own room I locked to door, something I never do. I said it wasn't easy, but one part was. Laying down on my bed, opening my mouth, stuffing the crotch of my daughter's dirty underwear inside while I fucked myself, that took no effort whatsoever."

Olivia was dumbfounded, it seemed like every time she though she had Marcella figured out her mom did something totally unexpected. She took a moment to regain her composure and get back into character. "Are you seriously telling me that you enjoyed it?" She tried hard to imagine herself as the fictitious sexually-aggressive male she had created, but things were not going quite as planned. Olivia and Romeo really only had one thing in common and she was still getting used to it.