The Enslavement of Theresa Simpson
(or: Bastard Made Mom a Sex Slave!)
Chapter 2, part2, He Made Her His Bitch
Copyright © 2017 by Fugue
Paul always had the prettiest mom at school.
See, though, that can sometimes be a problem ...
Legalese: Contains adult material. Anyone under age 18 must leave now. Anyone that might be offended by sexy or sexually explicit material or strong language must leave now. The activities in this story may be unrealistic, unethical and/or illegal, and they ignore the reality of sexually transmitted diseases—this is fiction, do not try any of this at home. All characters are over age 18, proof of age on file.
Author’s note: This is the novelization of the LIVE! graphic novel (“LIVE!” in the sense that little blue buttons use JavaScript logic to transition the images and narrative for you) chapter of the same name, available soon for free at www.fuguetales.com/main/TheresaSimpson.html. There’s a free preview there as well, and you can view them online there or download them for offline viewing (it’s all just JavaScript and images).
This work is Fugue’s tribute to the 1980s cult author Russ Martin, whose ladies were mind controlled by demonic obsession.
Just to manage expectations of readers: this novelization fills in a few additional details, but does not add significant new plot beyond the LIVE! graphic novel at this time.
I hope you enjoy!
Friday evening, Paul’s bedroom
Theresa was dressed for bed when she walked into Paul’s bedroom—pajama bottoms, an overlong t-shirt and her reading glasses—carrying a pillow. Tossing the pillow onto the bed, she spoke rhetorically to a Paul that was not there. “Oh Paul,” she sighed, “I wish you were here, instead of staying over at university this Thanksgiving
“I NEED you ...”
She sat on the bed. “I need someone I can TALK to, someone that can help me to think clearly. We were always so good for each other to talk to. I ... miss you.
“Now, most of all ...
“I have NO IDEA what is going on here ...
“I just know that I CAN’T STOP THINKING about him!”
Another unhappy sigh. “I am MISERABLE! I HATE this! But I can’t get my mind to stop OBSESSING over him ...
“Since Wednesday, he has been on my mind EVERY MINUTE of EVERY DAY.
“I can’t—
“It’s like ... like ... my world REVOLVES AROUND HIM now!
“And I can’t get it to stop!
“It’s driving me INSANE!
“And I ... don’t WANT to hurt your father, but—” Her voice went tiny, “But I can’t ... help myself ...”
A few moments passed while she gnawed her lip. “The little shit even makes fun of me, humiliates me ...” She puffed her chest and gave a goofy, deep-voiced impersonation, “Oh, did you and hubby make up after our make out session yesterday?” She unpuffed her chest and went back to herself. “It WASN’T a MAKE-OUT SESSION! HE kissed ME!
“I just ...,” her voice shrank again, “... let him.
“But ... desperately wanted ... to ... keep kissing him ...”
Her voice was so quiet as to be almost unintelligible now, “And now I’d ... do anything to ... taste those lips again ...
“To ... get him smile at me, to be PLEASED with me ...
“Ohgod, just to be in the same room with him again ...”
She caught herself and spoke strongly again, “GODHELPME! He’s a BOY! A STUDENT of mine! What the HELL am I DOING?!”
Her gaze dropped as she considered. “I have ... vowed—yeah, a big word, but ... I have, I’ve vowed—to ... NOT call him up, in the middle of the night tonight, begging him, pleading with him, to let me please! Please! OHGODPLEASE! ... see him tonight!”
Another sigh, and she whispered, gaze down and to the side, “I have vowed ...”
She leaned over and stretched out on the bed. “I’m going to ... sleep in your bed tonight. Your father is—well ... he—”
She finished in a tight whisper, “I don’t think he can stand to see me right now ...”
She set her glasses on the nightstand as a sob bubbled up out of her. “Say a prayer for me ... Please?
“It is soooo hard ...”
I paused the video and sat there.
God, what was WRONG with me?! How did I not SENSE this?! How did I NOT know that something this horrible was happening to her? To them?
How could I have spent Thanksgiving at university with a meaningless girl when ... THIS was happening?!
I should have KNOWN somehow. We DO have a bond—we’ve always been best friends. How could I have NOT ... SENSED this?!
I ... caught myself before I sank too far down in guilt-pity. That wouldn’t help fix anything. I could indulge in feeling guilty later. My job right now was to find some clue to help rectify this.
I started the video again.
Saturday morning
The scene opened on Mom wearing—wow! I didn’t even know she OWNED a dress with a neckline that plunged that low. It was a purple dress, with lacing keeping the top from opening up to just reveal EVERYTHING. She wore a choker too, and was ... EXCEPTIONALLY PRETTY in her makeup.
“Two hours!” Dad howled. “You spent TWO HOURS, PRIMPING and PREENING for that little bastard,” he shifted to a mocking tone, “your ‘boyfriend.’
“And that DRESS?!” he nearly flung his hand at her to gesture at it, “You’re going to go with THAT dress?!”
“YOU bought this dress for me, Arthur!” she met his anger with a little of her own.
“Yeah, I just never expected you’d be wearing it for ANOTHER MAN!”
His eyes dropped to her hand, and he sneered. “And STILL—no wedding ring!”
Mom looked at her hand, naked of ring, blushed as she hid it behind her back, and dropped her eyes, the opposite of a challenge. “Arthur ... I ...
“Ohgod ... please, Arthur ... I SOOO don’t want to hurt you.
“But I have NO CLUE what I’m doing here ... what’s going on ... where—where I’m going to land in all this—”
She brought her eyes back up. “I’m sorry, Arthur ... I don’t know WHAT I’m going to do ... I—I’m a danger.
“Because I—I’m—Arthur, I am INSANE right now!
“I—I am. I truly ... am.
“I—I can’t promise that I ... that I won’t hurt you.
“That I won’t ... betray you ...
“I—” she shrugged.
Dad closed his mouth. And swallowed. “You—WOULD? Just ... betray me, Theresa?”
“Ohgodyes, Arthur!” she spoke rapidly, urgently, and looked like she was ready to cry. “I think I WOULD. In a heartbeat. I ... may. I—I can’t help myself!”
Dad ... deflated.
“That’s it, then ... isn’t it?” he sighed. “When you marry, you—think you’re ... joining together in some ... holy union ...
“But it’s really ... nothing but a LIE ...
“Just a stand-off, until ... until one fucks over the other.
“The first treachery wins ...”
“I’m SORRY, Arthur!” Mom cried, tears welling up in her eyes, “I DON’T WANT to betray you! But I can’t—I can’t NOT ...”
“I know, Theresa, I know,” he sighed, deflated. “Me either.”
Mom fought the tears wanting to leak out her eyes a few moments, then her brow furrowed. “You ... either—what?”
“I can’t ... NOT betray you, either ...”
“Arthur, I don’t—I don’t understand ...”
“Your ... student ... came up to me a week ago. And he ... bet me he could TURN YOU WHORE.
“I almost ... punched him in the face.
“But then ...
“But then, the more I thought about it, the more it ... turned me on.
“I mean, you’ve always been such a ... prude about sex, Theresa. But ... what if you COULDN’T HELP yourself?
“What if he COULD turn you into just a desperate, begging slut ...”
He took a deep breath, then let it out. “That is just ... SOOO fucking hot!”
“But, Arthur, I’m ... NOT ... a ‘prude’ about ... sex. We just have a caring, supportive—”
“Really? We’ve never even done anal.”
Mom’s head did a small jerk back, almost like she’s been slapped. “I—Arthur, NORMAL people don’t DO anal.”
“You’ve never even SWALLOWED.”
“Your—? You mean with oral sex? Ew. I—”
“Theresa, you’ve never let nasty, filthy words just spill outta your mouth; we’ve never had sex in a dressing room, with everyone listening to your obscene moaning.
“You’ve never LOST ALL CONTROL and screamed your slutty little heart out during a mind-blowing ’gasm.
“You never took pecker spray all over your tits.
“You’ve never even strutted your cheeky ass around in FUCK-ME HEELS, just BEGGING for it.
“Shall I go on?”
Mom’s face had grown more and more injured-looking while Dad went on with all ... that. “Arthur?!” she came back with now, “I—you—just don’t—cut loose and—”
“You will,” Dad said with a tight smile. “I’ve ALREADY SEEN you do things you would NEVER have done.
“You’ll do all those things and MORE, darling.”
“God!” Mom reeled. “Arthur, you—you LIKE this fantasy?! The idea of being CUCKOLDED?!
“By one of my STUDENTS?!”
“Naw,” he shook his head. “Not so much the ‘getting cucked,’ as you ... GOING WHORE.
“I can still loathe the bastard that turned you, but YOU ... GOING SLUT—THAT’s just SEXY AS HELL!”
A harsh whisper came out of Mom as she stood there, stunned, “Jesus! Arthur!”
“Oh, wait!” Dad’s face twisted with some anger, “YOU’RE going to be HORRIFIED? At what he’s making ME want and do?
“Hey, at least I’M not all lubed and ready to spread legs and TAKE DICK. Hmm?!”
Mom stared at him, the way you’d study some strange alien organism. “Ohgod, Arthur ... what has he DONE to you?
“And ... what have YOU ... DONE?”
“Me? Hey, I’m just recording—and enjoying—your FALL.
“I’ve placed a few cameras around the house just to film your en-whore-ment.” He shrugged. “Your enhancement. The new and improved you. Slut.
“You asked me why I was giddy the other night. It’s because you’re gonna be nothing but his little fucktoy! And you’re gonna LOVE the NEW YOU!”
Mom was on the verge of tears again. “What—did I ... do—to—make you ... hate me so, Arthur ... ? What ... did I ever ... do?”
He sneered. “Look at you—all pretty and fixed up. What did I ever do to YOU for you to FUCK a student? And CUCK me?!”
A knock came from the kitchen door then.
“That’s ... him!” Excited anticipation started to burn off her tears, the way the sun burns off dark fog.
“DAMN YOU, for making my makeup run.” She hurried to the door.
“Just LOOK at you,” he called after her, “scrambling to the door to whore!”
She ignored him and opened the door to Brad. “Daddy!” she gave him her best sultry look, “You’re HERE!”
“Yeah, okay,” he grinned, “That’s how a man OUGHT to be greeted by his bitch.”
I don’t know if she was actually breathless with excitement, or if she thought it made her more sexy, but ...
“I FIXED UP for you ... ‘Daddy.’ I—I—do you like?” she asked tentatively.
“Yeah ... you can be a HOT LITTLE BITCH when you try hard.”
She ... actually gave a little squeal of joy. At ... being called a hot little bitch ...
“Well, I just stopped by today to say that I can’t stay.”
Mom’s face fell. “What?!”
“Yeah, I need to be running.”
“Please, Daddy! Don’t be mad with me! I APOLOGIZE!
“Brad, I am SO, SO SORRY for not taking you seriously the other day!
“PLEASE! Please stay! A little while?”
He tilted his head, matter-of-factly. “Nah—I got business to do, babe.”
“PLEASE! Brad, this is me begging! Okay? Please?
“I am BEGGING you! Just—please! Stay a little while!”
In a smaller voice, “Please? ... Please, Daddy?”
Brad chuckled. “You’re cute when you beg.
“But ... I got things I gotta do.”
Mom—I winced: ohgodno, Mom!—she got down on her knees right there in the doorway, right in front of her student.
“Please, Brad! This is ME ON MY KNEES!
“BEGGING YOU!
“Please! Please spend some time with me! Please, Daddy!”
The smirk wriggled around on Brad’s face a little. “Kinda tempting ... a grown woman—my own prim, stuck-up, bitchy Lit. teacher, no less—down ON HER KNEES, groveling, just begging me to grace her with my presence.”
“I AM, Brad! Pleeease! I’m BEGGING you!”
“But,” he tsked, “sorry, babe.”
Mom’s face bunched up to sob, “But I CAN’T STAND it any longer without you! I NEED you, Daddy! Pleeease!”
“Don’t you DARE cry!” he snapped harshly at her.
She lowered her head, sniffling. “I—I ... won’t ...”
“Yeah, if you’re gonna sob, do it somewhere else.”
“I’m not,” she sniffled, “sobbing, Daddy ...”
“Good. See you tomorrow morning, babe.”
And the callous shit just walked off. Leaving her there, on her knees, to erupt into tears after he left.
Saturday mid-day
The video cut to Dad, holding the camera on himself to explain, “Well, I helped my sobbing wife into the house, and out of view of the neighborhood.
“Since then, she’s been in Paul’s room, curled up in a ball on his bed.
“I’ve recorded a few minutes of her in there, but it quickly becomes repetitive. Fitful moans of anguish are broken up by periods of full-hearted sobbing.
“It’s so pathetic, that it’s even tugging at MY heartstrings. And I know the reason she’s sobbing—she’s desperate to CUCK ME with one of her teenage students.
“NOT something I’d ordinarily sympathize with.”
Late Saturday afternoon
The video cut to Mom laying on my bed, in her sexy purple dress, curled up in the fetal position, looking like she’d nearly cried herself out. Dad must have placed one of those nanny cams in my room to capture footage of her.
Her eyes snapped open, and she propped herself up on an elbow. “I know how to do this ...” she whispered.
“I don’t even HAVE Brad’s phone number,” she sat up and muttered, “to call him if—when, rather—I DO get that desperate. And he’d ... just get pissed at me that I bugged him anyway.
“BUT ... I DO know how to contact him ...”
The scene cut to Mom stepping into the kitchen to join Dad there.
“She stirs!” he commented at her as she stepped into the room.
“I do,” she sighed. “I am ... all cried out at this point, Arthur.”
“Ha, no more tears left inside to squeeze out?”
“For the moment. The tears will refill, though. I have no doubt.”
She walked a little further into the room. “Arthur, you ... have been recording things for the last few days?”
“OH yeah! Doc-u-menting your FALL.”
Mom sighed bleakly. “Then Brad not only wants to break me, he wants to ... watch me break OVER AND OVER AGAIN.”
“Well ... I keep a copy too,” Dad let her know that he too got in on the viewing of her being broken. “Like I said, you as a slut that JUST CAN’T CONTROL HERSELF is simply HOTTER THAN HELL!”
“Thank you for that, Arthur,” she said quietly, “It’s good to know my cuck husband supports me so.”
“Yeah, well. You just try to NOT act the whore, then, hmm?”
“I know, you’ve said I won’t be able to help myself. Maybe I won’t.
“Now, Brad’s not a patient kid. He’s not going to wait to watch me writhe in agony over trying to please him. He’s going to want to see the videos all along, right?”
“Yeah ... I upload them every day or two to his dropbox account.”
“I figured something like that,” Mom nodded.
She took a deep breath. “Well, BREAK OUT THE CAMERA, Arthur. This psychological-torture game is about to evolve, and Brad’s going to want to see this.”
Dad scowled skeptically. “What are you talking about?”
“Arthur, this has all been sheer hell for me. Okay, then, I am ready to compromise myself. I’m letting you know in time to film this, Arthur. So get out your camera and RECORD MY FALL.”
“Sure,” he shrugged, looking a little eager now. “It’s YOUR performance.
“Prepare to crawl, Theresa!”
The video cut to a few minutes later, with Mom standing in the living room where Dad was filming her.
“Okay ...” Mom gave a quick pant, “here we are ...
“Brad, the last few days have been a RAW LIVING HELL for me. I ... can’t stop thinking about you. Hell, you are ALL that I CAN think about.”
She dropped her voice and muttered aside a prayer, “God ... please help me ... make it ... through this ...”
Then back to her audience, “Brad, I ... CAN’T TAKE IT anymore.
“You win.
“You win.
“I’m ... going to ... do something ... that I ... NEVER EVER ... thought I’d—EVER—
“I’ve never had to fight against this, because it’s never even occurred to me to DO something like this ...”
Dad sighed impatiently. “Get along with this, Theresa, you’re starting to bore us ...”
“I’m working my way up to it, Arthur! Geez!”
She focused back on the little bastard prick that was her intended audience. “Brad ... you win.”
She swallowed, hard, and whispered, “Ohgod, I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m about to do this, for a student!
“Come to me, Brad. Please. Just spend some time with me.
“I NEED YOU, darling!
“If you come to me, I will greet you with a kiss, honey!
“I will wrap my arms around your neck,” she moved her arms as though she were doing just that, embracing the little prick, “and press my HOT, DESPERATE MOUTH to yours, and ... slip my SWEET TONGUE into your mouth to DANCE with yours—
“Ohgod,” she marveled at herself, “I can’t BELIEVE I’m talking like this to a student!
“But it doesn’t matter that you’re a student, Brad. I will still DO THIS for you.
“Would you like that? HOT TEACHER-LIPS pressed to yours? Kissing FORBIDDEN MILF teacher-lips?
“And then, while you’re kissing teacher, Brad, I will ...
“—OHGOD, this is soo forbidden!—
“Brad, I will slip my sultry velvet tongue into your student-mouth,” Mom stuck her tongue out far and wriggled it around to demonstrate, “and just (sigh) dance around in there!
“Like ... mmmm ... heaven!” She tongued the air for him again.
She shivered and touched her hair. “Ohgod! I can’t believe that I’m talking this way to a student! It’s THAT forbidden! Even if you ARE 19 years old.
“Okay, back to it, because I want you SOOO BAD, baby!”
I writhed a little watching this on the video. It was ... wrong ... for her to be ... trying to lure her tormentor to pay attention to her with pet-talking. Ugh. Anyway ...
“Between you and me ... GOD, I get ...” she shifted to a loud whisper, like she was sharing something confidential, “WET! Whenever I think about you, honey!”
Ohgod, Mom! Don’t—tell him you’re—awww—that you’re SEXUALLY EXCITED for him! Yeesh!
“Okay,” she continued, “my warm, velvet tongue is caressing around inside your luscious mouth, Daddy.
“It’s what every bitch does for her man, and my tongue is YOURS, Brad!”
Awww, don’t call yourself his bitch, Mom!
“So, you like this, baby? Kissing teacher? But my tongue doesn’t just ... slip into your mouth once, Daddy. We will,” she took a deep breath and sighed it out as she tongued air demonstratively, “MAKE OUT!
“God, baby, I can sit with you and taste your lips—and your TONGUE!—for HOURS!
“You’re making out with your staid, stuffy, prim—but secretly SLUTTY and HOT!—Lit. teacher.
“And she is ... stooping, DEGRADING herself, by making out with her hunk student! You!
“Does this ... start to ... get you all HARD for me, sweetie?
“But this slutty teacher doesn’t just stop with tonguing your tongue.
“I’m TOO EXCITED, and can’t HELP myself, sweetie!” She spun around in her sexy dress, presenting her figure to her tormentor.
“I—I—” a skittish laugh slipped out of her as she obviously boiled over with anxiousness over what she was about to do, “Ohgod, darling ... here we—here we go ...”
Her hand trembled as it moved to her chest and ... pulled the dress aside to let nipple slip out.
“D’oh!” I heard Dad mutter as he zoomed the camera in on the pink areola.
Another nervous, trembly laugh—not quite hysterical, but certainly anxious—bubbled out of her, and her voice was over-loud when she spoke. “Ohmigod, I—can’t—BELIEVE—I’m—doing this for you ... baby.”
“Theresa—are you PANTING?” Dad inserted.
“I’m just nervous, okay, Arthur?!” Then she muttered under her breath, “Nervous enough to pass out ...”
Another trembly, excessive giggle. “And here—here goes—” She pulled the other side of her neckline to slip the other nipple into view.
More giggling, and I wasn’t entirely sure she WASN’T on the verge of hysteria. “Ohgod! You are just a student! And I am doing THIS! For YOU!
“Here you—are—darling!”
Then harshly to Dad, “Arthur! My eyes are UP HERE!”
Dad’s voice could be heard grumbling as he raised the camera to focus on her full upper body instead of just tit.
“Do you like—teacher’s,” she was actually panting a little at this, “EXCITED NIPPLES? Brad?
She smiled for the sonofabitch. “Can you believe your ‘naughty slut’ teacher?! The THINGS that she will DO for you?” Another trembly, nervous giggle.
She was excited and scared to death as she exposed her nipples for this student.
“Ohgod! I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID this for you, Brad. That I SHOWED these to you!
“You’re—you’re—I mean, I KNOW you’re 19, but—I still think of you as just a kid.
“And here you are, SEEING TEACHER’S BOOBIES!
“And—my husband Arthur is the ONLY one I’ve EVER gotten naked for IN MY LIFE!”
“And she didn’t do it too often,” Dad interjected, “even for him.
“Shut up, Arthur!” she snapped at him. Then back to Brad at the other end of her camera performance, “I’ve only ever gotten naked for that asshole.
“And NOW ... for YOU TOO, Brad. Naked. Partially, at least.
“If you want to see the rest,” she lowered her hands to form a heart-shape with her fingers and thumbs at her crotch, “I WILL show it to you, darling.
“BUT, you need to come visit me, and spend some time with me.
“I NEED to see you, Daddy! I MISS you so!
“I have a special outfit that I will wear for you.” She teased him with a whisper, “It’s SEXY for you, baby.
“I bought it for my second anniversary, but it’s so sexy that ... I never got up the courage to wear it for the jerk.”
“Bitch,” Dad muttered.
“Hmmph! NOW I get to wear it for a REAL MAN. YOU, Brad.
She made her plea, then. “Please come to me, Daddy. Spend some time with me, and let me get all sexy for you ... please?”
She switched from enticing to business-like demeanor for Dad like flipping a light switch, then. “Please stop recording there, Arthur.
Then to herself, with voice trembly with leftover anxiousness, “Ohgod, I’ve never done ANYTHING like that before.” She pulled her neckline back together to hide nipple from Dad again. “And for a student, no less!”
You could hear Dad’s voice grumble, “Yeah, bare your TITS for your student. And now you COVER EVERYTHING back up from your HUSBAND. How TWISTED is that?”
“Now please upload that immediately, Arthur!” Mom told him.
“Yeah? I’ll upload it WHEN I FEEL LIKE IT!”
“Arthur,” Mom looked at him, her sexy dress back to non-R-rated now, “this is the young man that somehow made you fantasize things so hard that you’re HAPPILY HELPING OUT with your own CUCKING.
“I wouldn’t cross him if I were you. Hmm?”
Dad grumbled. But that did sink in on him.
“I think Brad is definitely interested in seeing teacher’s naked nips. So let’s go upload that right now, hmm?”
The video cut to Mom, in her sexy purple dress, sitting on my bed again then. “Well, I got Arthur to upload the recording. So: message sent to Brad.
“Now, if Brad will just ... watch it, and ... let me—let me be around him a little while.
“Pleeeease, Brad ...
“I need to ... stay dressed, in case Daddy just drops by—if only he WOULD!
“And I can’t cry too much while I wait, so that my eyes aren’t red and puffy if he DOES stop by ...”
She hugged forward over her knees, poignantly. “Oh Brad, pleeeease ... pleeeeease come to me ... or let me come to you ...”
The video cut to her napping, curled up in the fetal position, while she waited. The cell phone rang, startling her awake. “Daddy!” She snatched the cell phone and sat up, “PLEASE be Daddy! PLEASE be Daddy! PLEASE be Daddy!” She pressed the button to connect. “Hello? D-Daddy?”
“Snookums.”
“YESSS!” She bubbled brightly into the phone, “Hello, Daddy! OHGOD, it is SO GOOD to hear from you, Brad!”
“Calm down, snookums,” Brad chuckled.
“Yes, Daddy,” she reined in her excited joy.
“Hey, hot video.”
“YESSSS!”
“Okay, okay, don’t squeal so loudly into the phone, punkin.”
“Yes, Daddy! Sorry, Brad! YOU LIKED IT! You liked the recording!”
“Your nipples were ... as nice as I thought they would be.”
“YESSS! Yes! Yes! Yes! OHGOD, Daddy, you’ve made me the HAPPIEST girl in the WORLD!”
“Want a critique?”
“OHYESBRAD! Tell me what to improve, and I will DO it!”
“Okay, two things.
“First of all, you look good with makeup; you look good without it too. You do have a natural beauty—that’s one of the reasons I selected you.”
“Oh, Daddyyyyy!” her voice was brimming with warmth as she held her hand to her chest and her eyes fluttered.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t let your head swell up. So vary it up. Sometimes makeup, sometimes not.
“Vary it up. Got it, Daddy.”
“Second thing—your wedding ring. Marriage vows are solemn things, Theresa.”
His tone made her sober up. “I know, Daddy ...”
“When you break your marriage vows, Terri, that makes you look so weak and contemptible that you are just LOATHESOME.”
“Loathsome ...” she absorbed, nervously.
“I want you to wear your wedding ring, so that you keep that shame always in the forefront of your mind.
“Always remember shame ...”
“For instance, take your case: you are just SHITTING ALL OVER your marriage vows.”
In a tiny voice, she acknowledged, “I am ... just shitting all over my ... marriage vows ...”
“Exactly. You are FUCKING OVER your husband AND your kid! To be with a teenage student just because he makes you melt like butter between your legs.”
“I’m ... fucking over Arthur ... AND PAUL! ...”
“What a FUCKING WHORE. Am I right?”
Mom’s face looked pained with everything laid out in front of her like that. “You’re,” big swallow, “you’re right, Brad.”
“Hmm?”
“I ... AM ... a FUCKING WHORE, Brad.
“And I am ... fucking over my husband, and ... fucking over my own son ... for you ...
“By doing all my thinking ... with my out-of-control TWAT.
“I am just JUICING myself over my hunky teenage student ...
“I’m ... sorry ...
“I am ... simply LOATHESOME.
“But ... just ... please ... co0me spend time with me?”
Brad stayed silent, letting her simmer a little more.
“I am ... SHIT, Brad. I am sooo sorry ...”
“Yeah, good. You ARE shit, Theresa. Just always remember that.”
“Yes—yes, sir ...”
“Soo ... you mentioned some super-sexy outfit? You have a slut’s costume that you’ll show me?”
Mom’s face brightened a little as the topic moved off how horrible she was for screwing over Dad and me, and onto Brad being interested in seeing her sexy. “I DO, Daddy.
“I know that I’m crapping all over my marriage by doing this, but I will eagerly STRUT LIKE A SLUT for you, Daddy.
“IF that’s what you want, honey ... ?”
“Well, maybe I’ll come over tomorrow morning to inspect you.”
“Yes! Yes! Yes! YES!” she was overjoyed. “OHGOD, yes! Oh, THANK you, Daddy!
“I LOVE you, Brad! I love you! I love you! I love you!”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t confuse a wet twat with love, snookums.”
“Yes, Daddy. Still, I NEED you and LOVE you with ALL MY HEART, darling!”
“Okay, later.” He disconnected.
She turned off the phone and squealed with glee. “EEEEEEE! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
She hopped up off the bed and did a little teenager’s victory dance, “Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Oh yeah!
“Daddy’s coming over! Daddy’s coming over! Daddy’s coming over!”
Realizing she just did a horribly embarrassing little dance of joy, she sat back down on the bed. “Ohgod! I know I’m going to CRINGE if I ever see Arthur’s recording of that little ‘performance’.
“Me?! DANCING in JOY?! I’m NOT some teenage girl! I’m SUPPOSED to be a mature TEACHER!
“But ... something inside me is just swelling with JOY! And I CAN’T seem to keep it in! OHGOD! Daddy’s coming to SEE ME tomorrow!
“Just breathe, and calm down ...
“Okay ... my message via video recording WORKED! It got his attention! And it got his INTEREST!
“It PLEASED Brad!
“Which just makes me—OHGOD! All swelled up warm and sticky inside! Like gooey, happy pastry!
“Ohgod! Little butterflies of JOY are just flitting around me, I am so HAPPY!
“It SHOULD NOT make me THIS happy to have pleased Brad!
“But—GODHELPME!—it DOES!
“Okay, calm down. Calm down, Theresa.
“This COULD be a way to ... bear whatever it is that Brad has DONE to me!
“If I can just LEARN what he LIKES and DOESN’T LIKE, I MAY be able to keep Brad HAPPY! Which—ohgod, I need for him to be happy with me SOOO BADLY!”
As she mentioned how desperately she needed to please Brad—and she had just DONE so!—well ... her nipples really showed how happy and excited she was. Even through her dress, it was obvious those things were as hard as little marbles. Not that I ... pay attention to Mom’s erect nipples through her dress. It’s just ... there was no missing them!
“For him to be happy—PLEASED—with me! It is INDESCRIBABLE how hard I NEED that!
“And this MAY be a way to make whatever he’s DONE to me—well, not OKAY!—but ... maybe ... maybe ... BEARABLE!
“AND—I need to get to sleep so that I can look pretty for Daddy tomorrow!”