Favela Pt. 06

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


People keep asking when the next part will be finished and the answer is always ‘when it’s done, maybe never, since the story has no beginning nor end.’ If you want me to write faster please send words of encouragement instead. Those usually inspire me to continue. Thank you & enjoy.


After a while Olivia got tired of waiting, she would have dozed off if not for the residual adrenaline that was keeping her exhausted body from collapsing. She brazenly kicked open the closet door and strode into the room. Her first thought was to shout something rude, but her open mouth snapped shut when she noticed that Marcella was asleep. “Son of a bitch.” She huffed, all that waiting for nothing. Glaring balefully she went around the side of the bed and bent down to study her mom’s face.

Marcella looked peaceful enough, although the VR band was mildly disconcerting. Olivia grabbed a stray blanket and pulled it up over her mother’s mostly naked body. She couldn’t say why she did it really, it had just seemed like the right thing to do. Then she had a slightly wicked though. Moving her head so that their faces were neatly aligned and almost touching, she tried to fix her expression as best as she could remember to mimic the photo that was being displayed on her mom’s VR band.

Reaching up with both hands she gently grasped it on either side of Marcella’s head and then lifted it slowly until it came off with an elastic snap. “Wake up. Wake up.” She murmured, setting aside the band and then playfully flicking her mother’s ear lobes until she snorted and her eyes fluttered open. Olivia watched curiously as her mom took in her surroundings. “You shouldn’t sleep in your VR band.” She admonished smugly. Marcella’s face began to redden, her memories clearly returning.

“Oh my god. You saw and heard everything, didn’t you?” Marcella’s question was so direct that Olivia was caught a little off guard. She just ended up nodding softly, her own face flushing when she thought about what that would undoubtedly mean to her mother. “Well, it’s very late and we both have to work tomorrow. I can’t imagine what you’re thinking right now, but I hope it can wait until morning.” Marcella blinked her eyes blearily, her tone pure pleading supplication.

Olivia nodded again, her mouth quirking, unable to resist one final parting dig she batted her eyes and leaned in closer. “Are you sure you don’t want a goodnight kiss?” Marcella actually snorted, then chuckled ruefully. Honestly Olivia’s feelings were a little hurt, she’d expected angry dismissal at the very least, not mirthful resignation. Her mom was underestimating her again, but it was no big deal, she would make her pay for it later. Olivia smiled sweetly.

Marcella turned over and away from her daughter, pulling the blankets up tightly around her neck. “Goodnight filha.” She said, already sounding half asleep. Now it was Olivia’s turn to snort. She went back to the closet and grabbed the pistol and the chair. Noisily she made her way out of her mother’s bedroom and back into the kitchen. As tired as she was, she was too excited to sleep and also ravenously hungry. She ate three tamales and drank two full pints of the disgusting milk.

There was nothing left to do really so she went to her bedroom. Once inside she left the door open and started stripping off her clothes. It was careless but she was willing to bet that Marcella would sleep through the night. Standing in the cool evening air, caught in the ethereal glow of refracted moonlight she was suddenly repulsed by the sight of her dangling faux manhood. Scrabbling at the back for the tab she laboriously peeled the prosthesis off of her aching body.

It was quite painful to remove it quickly, but she barely cared, it was wonderful just to be back in her own skin. Panting and wincing she glanced down at her bareness, her absence, her dark skin was a bit red and sensitive where the bio-rubber had bonded. The probe had expanded a lot, it was easily half the size of the actual phallus, but already she could see it deflating now that it had been removed. What a nightmare contraption this thing was, she thought, shuddering as she dumped it disdainfully into an empty dresser drawer.

Then she smiled brightly, a happy memory surfacing, the moment she’d snatched Marcella’s black panties out of her hand. Glancing down at her shorts on the floor, she bent over and fished around in the pockets until she found her latest prize. It was a mixed blessing though as the mere act of bending over caused a bunch of juice to come gushing out from between her legs. It ran sluggishly down her inner thighs, she grimaced at the unpleasant sensation, but then flushed when she realized that her mom would probably experience something similar in the morning.

She held the balled up underwear close to her face, unsure of exactly what she was doing. Her heartbeat began to quicken and her hand started shaking. Remembering her experience in the closet she smashed xvideos porno them against her nose and mouth, desperately trying to focus on the heady scent that made her crotch ache and her mind go blank. “Mom.” She moaned, then “What’s happening to me?” huffed hotly into the slippery material.

They were still pretty wet, as she pulled them away from her face she could feel the moistness left behind on her skin. Her heart wasn’t racing anymore but her crotch had gone from aching to throbbing. A lot more juice had dripped down her legs, she wondered how there could be so much trapped inside her body. Stretching out the panties between her hands she suspended them in the air, they were so beautiful and adult looking, they made the iridescent ones Marcella had given her look childish.

“But you’re mine now.” She murmured, letting her fingers explore the sensual lacy bits around the waistband, soon she was spreading them open and holding them in front of her belly to peer inside. The black crotch was ineffable, like staring down into a well, it wasn’t shiny like the rest. For the first time Olivia noticed that they didn’t look overly large, in fact the size couldn’t be very different from her own. Getting a sudden dirty thought that started her heart thumping all over again she lowered the panties towards the floor and stepped nervously into them.

She stood there for several seconds, hunched over the gauzy material tickling her ankles. She felt light-headed and worried that she might fall over. Was she really going to do this? Straightening up more for stability than anything she pulled Marcella’s lingerie up her legs, stopping right at the tops of her thighs. The lace around the edges brushed seductively against her skin, they were a little tighter now but she could tell that they would almost certainly fit.

Olivia let out a little involuntary moan, causing her to blush furiously, why was this turning her on so much? Was it because they belonged to her mother, or was it because wearing them felt like a strange kind of dominance or ownership of Marcella. There was something so perverse and dirty about wearing her mom’s lingerie, still she hesitated, feeling an incomprehensible terror with the cum-drenched crotch just centimeters away from her spasming cunt.

This was intimate in a way that the accidental ‘sex’ hadn’t been. This was far more deliberate, if she did this, it would be impossible to deny that there was more to this little game than just getting her mother’s attention. If she put on these panties, it would be a secret yet undeniably submissive act. It wasn’t really that she was stealing her mom’s lingerie to enjoy for herself, it was more like she was admitting that she wanted Marcella to possess a part of her, to control her somehow.

This was a difficult thing to accept, and she was not entirely sure if it was true. She stood there in the cool semi-darkness, fingers stiffly stretching the elastic band encircling her hips, keeping it just millimeters away from her skin. “Does it really matter?” She asked out-loud, although quietly. “Even if I’m wearing her panties, she still does what I tell her to do. She’ll never know.” The last statement seemed to steel her resolve, there was no arguing with that.

Almost without thinking Olivia tugged her mom’s underwear tightly up to her waist. She shuddered at the sensation of the wet crotch squishing thickly into her vulva. She was already so juicy down there that it was impossible to tell what was what, but it didn’t matter much since she already knew how wet her mother had been before Olivia demanded that she take her panties off. “I’m the reason you got so wet.” She whispered, as if Marcella might hear her somehow.

The lingerie was extremely comfortable, aside from the obvious sticky mess between her legs. Unable to handle even one more minute of delirious excitement, Olivia crawled into bed like a snake slithering into a thicket. The covers were a mess but she didn’t care, as long as they covered most of her body. She curled up like a cat and fought the urge to thrust a hand between her legs and masturbate. She consciously slowed her breathing, willing her body to relax, pleading with her buzzing crotch. Her eyes closed, somehow she fell asleep.

When Olivia awoke she felt a calm, contented, peacefulness that permeated her entire body, rays of hot brilliant sunshine pierced through the glass doors and warmed her flesh. She felt well rested and full of energy. The first thing she did was search for her phone. In a strange twist the second she brought the chat into focus she noticed that her mother was typing.

“I just woke up in a puddle. I probably should have told you before, but I’m pre-gen.” This was no surprise to Olivia, but it was unexpected to see her mom admit it so easily, and quickly. Olivia had thought about it a lot when she was growing up and even more when she hit puberty. She used to ask her mom what it was like having a period and yabancı porno Marcella had always given her the same answer: “You should thank Deus and the state every day that you got the shot when you were still a baby.”

The “shot” was a type of gene therapy that all girls were given before they turned five years old, it basically disabled the menstrual cycle and consequently prevented unwanted pregnancy. It was reversible but that required special permission from the state, a second “shot” and a lot of other legal nonsense that Olivia had never bothered to investigate. Ironically the program hadn’t been going on for very long so there were still millions of older women considered “pre-gen”. They hadn’t had the shot, they still had periods, and most importantly they were still capable of getting pregnant.

The penalty for being pre-gen was pretty severe, but in the Favela there was no enforcement, the Ricos on the outside, up in their lofty ivory towers didn’t care if you lived or died. If you were fertile it was your own secret and your own problem. If you went to medical there was always the possibility that they might find out during a routine checkup, but there were pills for that, suppressors. Incidentally being a pre-gen was something of a social stigma, men would often avoid women who could get pregnant since illegal children involved no end of complications.

Olivia herself was extremely lucky, she’d been born just three months before the program started. Lucky in more ways than one. On one of her birthdays Marcella had taken her by the hand and dragged her into one of the villa’s many bathrooms. Sitting down on the toilet she’d hoisted up her skirt well above her waist and wedged the excess behind her back. She was naked underneath, Olivia could remember it vividly as the first time she’d seen her mother’s vulva up close.

Marcella had held her by the wrists, forcing her to stand in front of her, but probably only to keep her from running away. She’d screamed when she saw the blood, all over her mother’s crotch and running down her thighs. Marcella had waited calmly until Olivia was done struggling and then looked her daughter steadily in the eyes. “Filha, nothing is wrong, I’m not hurt.” She’d said, or something to that effect. “Now that you’re old enough it’s time you learned what it means to be a woman.” Her face softened and she smiled uneasily. “About yourself.”

Olivia had stood there sullenly, angry because of her mom’s control, still afraid, but also curious and unable to look away. “You asked me so many times about my period, and this month it came just like a present for your birthday.” She laughed bitterly. “The blood comes out like this for a few days. Makes a big goddamn mess. You feel like hell. Angry, tried, there is pain, discomfort, emotional chaos.” Reaching down she ran a finger casually between her labia, holding it up covered with blood which she pinched between her index and thumb.

“Afrescalhado.” She cursed under her breath. Then looking up again. “You don’t know how lucky you are. When I was twelve I had my first period, there was no miracle shot for momma. No one told me anything, it just happened. I thought I was going to die.” She chuckled ruefully. A glob of blood stretched viscerally between her fingers until she pinched them closed again. “But you don’t die, you just wish you did, a little bit.” She laughed again, her eyes scrunching up.

“I have two presents for you today. The first is special but anyone can have it, the other is ordinary but happens just once and only to you. Which do you want first filha?” Olivia thought for a minute, she was never one to deny herself the thrill of a lifetime.

“The second one.” She murmured, still somewhat intimidated by the whole experience.

“Good choice.” Marcella said, her eyes betraying that she had guessed which one Olivia would choose. “You will probably never have a period.” She mused thoughtfully. “But it is important that you know. The period is just a sign that shows you can have a baby, you are no longer just a girl, you have become a woman.” She placed her hand back down between her legs, slipping her bloody finger snugly between her sticky labia. “Today you become a woman, if you want to be.” She breathed.

Olivia was not sure what her mother meant, but she felt the gravity of the situation, Marcella was dead serious. She was scared, but there was some part of her that was not only entranced but desperate to know what it meant to be a woman. Her mother’s period sounded and looked horrific, but the idea that she would never even get to experience it, made her feel like she’d lost something precious. Marcella interrupted her disturbing thoughts. “Don’t feel pressured or rushed. This is something only you can decide for yourself. You can always say no, there will be other opportunities.”

Her face was so kind, Olivia had never seen her mother looking so gentle and full of love. “Now.” She blurted out. “I want it yaşlı porno right now!” She nearly shouted. “Make me a woman, please.” She added, a little less loudly, having taken note of her mother’s alarmed expression. Marcella’s face quickly shifted from surprise to bemusement. “Your wish is my command.” She murmured sweetly. “If you’re ready then lift up your dress and pull down your underwear.” She gestured coyly with her eyes.

Olivia did as she was asked, her faded white panties tumbled down her legs and lay warmly on top of her feet, she held up her dress, folding her arms so that it bunched comfortably around her waist. Marcella nodded approvingly. Olivia blushed slightly, the cool air tickled her naked body, her heart was beating fast and she had no idea what to expect. Marcella calmly withdrew her finger from the depths of her glistening pubes, it was a lot bloodier than before, it visibly clumped in places, a small drop ran down the back of her hand. She held it level between their bodies.

“The state took away your period but today I’m giving it back to you. When a girl has blood between her legs for the first time she is no longer a girl, she has become a woman.” Her hand moved smoothly forward, Olivia tensed but didn’t flinch or try to move away. She watched it for a moment but then found herself looking right into her mother’s piercing hazel eyes. She inhaled sharply as the wet finger covered with Marcella’s menstrual blood brushed lightly against the very bottom of her labia.

She exhaled hotly as she felt the finger rise abruptly, digging deeply between her folds as it curled underneath her entire crotch, it hooked firmly, the tip catching inside her for a second then sliding slickly upward. Marcella moved with deliberate slowness, Olivia looked down, staring fixedly as her labia enveloped her mother’s dark pinkish finger. Then before she knew it her mom’s hand was gliding away, only a few spots of blood were visible, otherwise Marcella had wiped it clean.

There hadn’t been anything sexual about their physical contact, she remember that distinctly. Marcella had been completely sincere, creating and performing the arcane ritual in an almost clinically detached fashion. Olivia herself had felt no notable reaction aside from the natural surprise of being touched in such a sensitive spot, and the residual sensation, a muted tingling warmth.

“Now pull up your panties.” Her mom said, voice still gentle but also firm. Olivia looked down, she could see traces of blood, she glanced up and met Marcella’s steady gaze.

“But, they’ll get stained, they’ll be ruined.” Her voice was both petulant and disbelieving. The concept of ruining perfectly good underwear was senseless and she didn’t even have many pairs to begin with.

“That’s kind of the point.” Her mother replied, her mouth quirking sideways. “This is what happens when you have your period. Think of it as a reminder, every time you see the stain, you will know that you have become a woman.” Reluctantly Olivia did as she was told, pulling up her underwear until she could feel them comfortably hugging her crotch. She could sense the blood, sticky and wet, undoubtedly soaking into her poor defenseless panties. It made her feel filthy and proud at the same time.

“So I’m a woman now?” She asked, a note of uncertainty tinging her voice. Marcella was cleaning herself off with a damp cloth, squeezing pink water into the toilet.

“As much a woman as I.” She said as she finished her chore. Putting the wrung-out cloth on the edge of the sink she stood up, shuffling her black skirt back down to her knees. Olivia stepped back, but then remembered that there was something else. Excitedly she jumped forward and grabbed her mother’s hands, blocking her from leaving the room.

“What about my other gift!?” She asked expectantly. Marcella stopped, her expression surprise.

“Oh, I can’t believe I almost forgot, good thing you reminded me.” Freeing her hands she turned quickly and bent over the back of the toilet. Olivia watched with great interest as her mom took the heavy porcelain lid and tilted it against the wall. Then plunging her hand down into the tank she sloshed around for a second before lifting it out again. Dripping all over the floor she clutched a small yet sturdy looking poly pouch.

Drying it off with the cloth she’d used earlier to clean herself Marcella unzipped the pouch and let its contents fall lightly into the palm of her other hand. It was the disintegrator.

She handed it over to her daughter, the lethal force fuse had already been removed so she only gave her the briefest introduction. “Use the laser for aim assist, pull the trigger to fire, don’t shoot people or animals unless you want to knock them out.” That was the beginning of Olivia’s love affair with guns.

Thinking back on all these hazy memories, she started to wonder if there was some kind of connection between that intense experience and the feelings she’d been having lately. Her mother had been right about one thing that day, she had walked out of the bathroom a woman. The blood had altered her psychology, she’d believed completely in the power of the ritual, she stopped thinking of herself as a girl and started doing whatever she wanted. The gun had helped.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

İlk yorum yapan olun

Bir yanıt bırakın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak.