Bully Gets Wimp's Mother - Part Four

By Psiberdreaming

...continued from Part Three!

The very same words whispered out of her mouth as she prepared Tim's breakfast. The guilt she felt resulted in an extra effort in the preparations for breakfast. She wanted to make it up to her son, with a big meal, especially since she felt a little dark again last night and would not let him come out of his room and have dinner. She lied to her husband and told him that she had already given it to him and that he was busy with a homework assignment and needed to be left alone so he could complete it.

Tim looked at her fearfully, and ate very little. The waste of food pissed her off a little, but after a good night's sleep, she regained control of her feelings and was now able to suppress her anger toward Tim. Realizing what she had done, Olivia knew that she would have to work very hard at winning back his trust.

'What about the bully?' she wondered, and what the hell was his name - she never discovered his name.

She definitely was not going to take him up on his offer. She had to straighten her head out. Not only getting off on her son being bullied but then getting off on doing some of the bullying, herself, had to stop. What the hell was she thinking anyway, yelling at her son -- hurting him? Was her dark side trying to put him in his place or trying to protect her lover?
"What the fuck?" Her lover? Since when? He attacked her...it was far from consensual and would not happen again, under any circumstances.

The phone rang, making her jump -- startling her out of her thoughts. The caller ID identified the call as coming from Tim's cell phone.

"Tim, are you OK?"

"So, why didn't you show up?"

"Who the hell is this? How did you get my son's cell phone?" she growled, annoyed as hell.

"I'm the guy who beat the fuck out of your son and made you cum so hard yesterday."

"Hey, you attacked me from behind. I didn't ask you touch me, much less make me cum...and I am certainly not coming to your house."

"Look, why don't you stop denying what you know we both want? You want me to hurt your son, you want me to fuck you, and you want to cheat on your husband...with me."

"Fuck you... get lost, asshole."

She hung up. Breathing hard, she realized that she was turning on as she talked (if you could call it that) with the bully. Relieved, she was happy that she got off the phone when she did, or the results might have been quite different. She went about cleaning the house, as she went ahead and took the entire week off, in order to mend her relationship with her son. It didn't really do much toward that end, however, as she calmed down and got lost in her thoughts about the bully again. It was nearly three o'clock when her cell phone rang. Her hands we full and it was all she could do to hit the screen to activate the speaker.

"Hello."

"You change your mind yet? Why'd you hang up baby?" the bully asked smoothly, with not a hint of anger. His voice raised goose bumps on her arms and she admired his cool resolve. Although maybe he just lets his anger build-up and then uses Tim as an outlet for it.

"What do you want and why do you keep calling? Do I have to hang up on you again?"

"You don't want to do that."

"Oh yeah? Why exactly not?" she demanded.

"Because I will continue to push the speed dial numbers on this phone and eventually I'll get your husband's phone and then I will have to tell him how I brought his wife off in an alley while she was screaming for me to beat the fuck out of her son."

"Why would you do that? What could you gain by that?" she asked.

"Me? I have nothing to gain or lose by it. You, though, stand to lose everything if you don't talk to me, but can gain oh so much just by having a conversation."

She had to admit that he had a point.

"Tell me one thing, if I am going to be talking to you. Why do you want me so badly?"

"Because you are singly, the hottest woman I have ever seen in my life."

"I find that hard to believe," she replied, half- annoyed, as she continued to work, wondering why she still hadn't hung up on him right then and the reminding herself about the speed dial.

"I guess it could also be that nothing would turn me on more than to steal a woman from her husband, while beating the shit out of her kid...and having her enjoy it all with me."

Her nipples perked up as she heard him utter his response.

"I am not leaving my husband and you do realize that I am not going to meet you," she smirked as she reminded him.

"Not today, but you will, eventually."

"Whatever. So, what do I call you?"

"Huh?" he asked, genuinely confused, just figuring that the shit stain would have told her his name.

"Your name, I only know you as my son's bully right now," she opened the door to a familiarity with the tormentor of her child...the man she hung up on earlier.

"Pete."

"Mind if I call you Peter? It seems more fitting right now."

"Sure, I mean, whatever you want to call me is fine as long as you call me."

She snickered a little. He could be kind of charming, if not a little corny.

"You know I'm still pissed that you have my son's phone - the phone my husband and I pay the bill on. How did you get it anyway?"

"I took it from him the night I beat him so bad. I didn't want him calling for help."

"That was actually pretty smart of you."

"Yeah and now I have your phone numbers, so I can call you whenever," he claimed proudly.

"Not when my husband's here, though. He would not understand me talking to you."

"Fuck him. I don't give a shit what he thinks," Peter scowled while Olivia felt a little aroused at his venom.

"You know, my son has been to the hospital twice now because of you."

"Really?" he sounded intrigued, why the second time?"

"When you beat him yesterday you broke his arm again," she explained.

"That's awesome... and hilarious! But tell me, did it turn you on knowing that I broke his arm twice?"

"I'm not answering that question right now."

"Okay, fair enough. Can you answer a few other questions, though?" he asked.

"Go ahead," she replied, her interest piqued.

"You ever yell at your son... I mean, not in a mother - son way...but really berate and humiliate him?"

She thought for a moment, chewing her lower lip, and then answered, figuring she could be honest with him; he wasn't going to report her to any authorities.

"I told him yesterday to stop antagonizing you and that it was his fault he was being beat on."

"No shit?"

"No shit. I also told him to stop his sniveling, he was a wimp, and stop telling people that you are beating him up, because he is embarrassing me," she sighed.

"Wow. That was pretty awesome, you know."

"I don't necessarily believe that," Olivia replied, feeling guilty, yet turned on.

"No, really, you are so fucking awesome for a guy like me, who understands where you are coming from. Have you ever physically hurt him?"

In for a penny, in for a pound, she figured . "Yesterday. I grabbed his broken arm and told him he better not dare tell his father anything."

"Did he scream?" Peter asked, hanging on the words.

"Yeah, pretty loud too - God, I hope none of the neighbors heard."

"Did that turn you on?"

"Yeah, I sent him to his bedroom without dinner..."

"For what?" he interrupted.

"For being a pussy," she replied to quickly to catch herself.

"OH MY GOD, that is sooooo funny ! " he laughed for about thirty seconds.

"Think I can finish?" she asked a little perturbed by the interruption.

"Yeah, sorry, Olivia, go ahead," Peter chuckled.

"Anyway, after I sent him to his bedroom, I went to mine and masturbated."

"Did it feel good?" he asked.

"Yeah, best in a while actually."

"Better than with me?"

"I'm not answering that question right now."

"Okay, then answer the other one," he demanded.

"Which one?"

"Did the fact that I broke his arm twice get your motor running?"

"Oh, jeez, why do you want to know that?" she asked knowing that it would come back up and dreading it.

"I just do, answer it because you won't answer the other."

"Yes, ok? In fact, I thought about it when I manipulated myself yesterday."

"Wish I could have seen that," the bully mused.

She had stopped cleaning and was now leaning over the kitchen counter, looking at the phone, listening to his breathing as they remained silent for a moment. She noticed that she was staring at the picture of her son that popped onto the screen when the call came through.

"So, how did a lady like you end up giving birth to a piece of shit like your son?" he questioned.

"I don't honestly know, I guess he got more of his father's gene's," Olivia admitted to him, absently, as she now realized just how turned on she had become just talking to him.

"Is your husband a pussy too?"

"Yeah, probably, but he's smart and makes a good deal of money."

"You love him?"

"Yes, of course! Why would I be married to him if I didn't love him ? " she honestly replied.

"You love your son?"

"I gave birth to him, so I should. That's a stupid question. I expected better out of you."

"But you get off on me beating him up?"

"Yeah... I'm not sure why," she admitted to him . "Back in high school, I always dated guys like you. I liked it when they hurt people for me. It seems weird that it would still be a part of me and especially toward Tim."

"Don't use his name when we talk. I can't stand that piece of shit," he spat.

She actually tingled at the hatred she felt through the phone, quietly undoing her pants, she slithered her right hand into her panties and began masturbating.

"What should I call him, then ? P iece - of - shit?" she said half-joking and half-hoping he would say ye s.

"Yeah, or S hit - stain, I don't care . E ither."

"Oh, fuck," slipped out of her mouth as her heartbeat raced upon hearing the answer. It was soooo wrong and it turned her on so much.

"You playing with yourself?"

"You should give him back his phone," she whispered out, trying to stay quiet while she frigged her wet snatch.

"Who?"

"My son."

"Who?"

She knew what he wanted and wasn't ready to give it to him, yet - if ever. However, he was insistent.

"Who?"

She bit her lip and rubbed longer and harder, trying to exact and orgasm before he coerced her answer.

"Whose phone should I return? Hmmmmmm, Olivia Redmon, wife of Jim Redmon and mother of the kid I..."

"Uhhhh," she moaned.

"KICK..."

"Uhhhhh..."

"and..."

"Uhhhhhh..."

"BEAT..."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

"the FUCK..."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

"Out of EVERY SINGLE DAY!"

"OH GOD, he's a fucking piece of shit! OH MY GOD, nothing but a fucking piece of shit!" she screamed as she came for Peter, for - what was now - the second time .

...to be continued!