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Bully Gets Wimp's Mother Ch. 01

By: Psiberdreaming



Everybody in this story is fake, not real, imagination, etc. This goes for the subject matter and the placing together of words that equals a sentence structure and then a paragraph and then a story...all of it fiction. And all everybody that matters is over 18 and adult. Thanks and I hope you enjoy. 

*

Snap!!! Tim's arm broke. He screamed while Pete and his friends laughed their asses off. "What's the matter, you piece of shit? Can't even wipe your own ass any more, huh, bitch?" Pete stood up and kicked Tim in the arm once and then in the ribs. He stooped down and threw a fist to his face repeatedly, until Tim's screaming stopped. 

"That's what happens when you don't do what the fuck you are told," Pete screamed at his victim. Looking through his book bag, he finally dumped it out and grabbed Tim's cell phone. Putting it into his pocket, he spat on Tim. 

"I don't want you going and calling anyone over this. Keep your fucking mouth shut and I might take it easier on you next time." One of Pete's accomplices asked how Tim would get help. "Why the fuck do I care? Let him work it out himself...without my new phone." They all laughed and left Tim breathing in his own blood. He would remain there for six more hours until finally being discovered and rushed to the hospital.

Olivia Redmon had been working late when she got the call about her son. The attractive mother of 36 ran to her car, crying and wishing she hadn't worked late. If she hadn't, somehow, she could have stopped her son from being attacked. All she would have missed at work was an hour of not having her ass, tits, and legs ogled by the pigs in her meeting; she always faced this problem though. 

Dark brunette hair cascading down just below her shoulders and framing a delicate, yet determined, face accented bright and piercing green eyes. Her 36C breasts were in almost perfect proportion to her hips and she worked out daily -- a habit that she wished her son would have picked up -- to create a musculature that tightened the parts that needed tightening and rounded the areas that needed rounding out. 

It was more than one man who wished to not only be between her muscular legs but somehow knowing that she could kill him by just squeezing them tight enough around their waist.

Olivia's husband, Jim, was waiting at the hospital when she ran into the emergency room. Just like his son, he was not a big exercise nut, but with the work he did in computer technology, he was much more of a financial success and besides - Olivia loved him. 

What she had problems with was the weakness that her son showed in character as well as physically. Never having a stomach for sniveling cowardice, she had to suppress a rage -- an anger at her son -- she knew didn't belong to a mother, who should be protective of her son. 

She didn't want to be a protector to him, she wanted him to stand up for himself and have some pride. However, since her son has been bullied for the past four years, nearly non-stop, she has had to learn to repress the revulsion created by his flaws.

As she stood looking at her bloodied and broken son, she felt conflicted. The pain she felt for him, did exist...it was real. Unfortunately, though, she spent the formative years of her life dating the bully. 

Turned on by the power they held and the pain they inflicted, she would find herself egging them on. She was always promising access to her sweet treasures if they would act out for her...act out on her wishes. 

Maturity started to wane that desire she had to see her bully boyfriends at work. Eventually, she looked to men for different reasons as she saw that intelligence could get one further in society than muscle could. It still didn't cancel her fervent wish that Tim would defend himself...or at least do something to stop the abuse.

It was two weeks before Tim was ready to attend school again. During that time, Olivia took a leave of absence at work and tried to work with her son. Trying to lovingly sooth him and find out who attacked him, she became increasingly frustrated by his lack of will and his complete fear of a bully who obviously threatened to hurt him of he did. 

Seeing no other choice, she let her son go to school alone, as he needed to learn to help himself. This did not mean that she would not be around, however, as she decided to follow him and see who was threatening her son. Years of experience with bullies would now come in handy as she was now the mother of the kid who was picked on. 

Half-way to the school, Tim started walking across the street quickly and Olivia wasn't quite sure why until she saw Pete taking chase. He was a big guy, taller and more muscularly lean than anyone she had ever been with. 

Before she saw Pete, she was headed over to save her son, but now she just stood there...watching. 

The bully slapped her son hard and he fell to the ground, landing on his broken arm. 

"Fucking pussy," she heard him scream at her son. She felt horrible but her nipples got hard and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. A wetness crept into her cunt as she squeezed her legs closed, tightly. 

Bighting her lip she watched the abuse go on for a few more minutes, until Tim gave Pete the money she had given for lunch. Tim was crying and all she could think was that maybe he should go without lunch today.

For now, though, she had to be a protector and stop this from happening again. It was horrible enough to have just let that incident take place in front of her. Although, she could justify her inaction with the idea that she was investigating and did not want to embarrass her son by running in. How to explain her sexual feelings though was better left to be explored another time, when she was home and very much alone. 

Pete obviously wasn't going to school today as he headed in the opposite direction as Tim. Deciding to follow him and confront him wherever he would end up, Olivia snuck around about thirty feet behind her son's torturer. 

Along the way she couldn't help notice his tight and muscular physique, from his ass all the way up to his shoulders. 

"This is how a man should be built," she said to herself, under her breath. Casually, he walked not seeming to notice Olivia trailing him. At some point during the walk, however, she lost him. 

Jogging up the street to catch up to him, she didn't notice that Pete had ducked into an alleyway and gasped in shock when she was grabbed from behind and dragged back into the shadows. 

"Who the fuck are you?" he spat. 

"Tim's mother." 

"Who?" 

"Tim Redmon, the kid you were just bullying."

"You're that shit stain's mother?"

"Yes," she answered, not bothering to dispute the name he called Tim. 

He released her and asked, "How is it that you are his mother? You are fucking hot as hell!"

"Thanks, but I want to talk to you about leaving him alone...not my appearance."

"You're a liar," he smirked at her.

"What? I don't appreciate you accusing me of lying," she sprayed back angrily.

"Just shut up. I know you are lying. You don't give a shit about him and...you want me."

"Oh my God! I can't believe that you would even think that," she gasped.

"It's true, I know it is. Otherwise why would you watch me beat the shit out of him and take the little bitch's lunch money? You didn't think I saw you, across the street, looking on...getting hot? Biting that lower lip and hugging yourself while you got wet watching? It turned me on to know that some bitch liked what I was doing, so I did it harder. Who knew it was his mother," he sneered, "and do you know what? I think you liked seeing that pussy get put down and shown his place and that now you want to fuck me far more than you ever wanted that piece of shit's father. It's true, isn't it?"

"I have absolutely no intention of ever cheating on my husband," she explained in a tense and controlled way as she accented every word by poking him in his hard pectoral muscle, "and if I ever were going to, it sure as hell wouldn't be with a kid like you!" 

Faster than she could see, Pete grabbed her arm, pulled her toward him, and kissed her hard and passionately. His tongue snaked into her mouth as, automatically, she started fighting back, wrestling with him, and eventually shoving him off of her. 

"Get the fuck away from me, asshole. I didn't ask for that! Leave me and my son alone!" 

Pete grabbed her back forcefully, spinning her around so that her back was pressed to his front, and began kneading her tits. 

"Your nipples are hard bitch. They get this hard with your hubby, hmmmmmm? The hubby you'll never cheat on?" 

She struggled, trying to get out of the bully's grip, but no matter how strong she was, he was stronger. Gasping, Olivia intensified her struggles as she felt his hand cup her snatch. 

"You like this, don't ya bitch? You like having the guy who is beating up your son playing with your twat don't you?" 

Throwing up her skirt, his hand grabbed roughly over her panties and he squeezed hard. Her intake of breath and grabbing of his arm showed him a reaction she could not hide. 

Biting down on her lower lip, she fought her arousal, the arousal she had been fighting since Pete threw Tim to the ground, possibly re-fracturing his arm. It was getting out of control and she knew that she would not win the fight if he did not stop. 

"Leave me and my son alone," Olivia gasped, her throat amazingly dry and her plea noticeably less convincing this time around. 

"I don't think so. I think I am going to keep on beating the shit out of your cunt of a son and you are going to let me, while I fuck you better than anyone has ever fucked you in your life. And you know what? Even knowing that I am tormenting your kid, you'll keep coming back to me, cheating on your husband, ignoring his needs, not to mention your own son's well-being and you will enjoy the shit out of me using you...fucking hard." 

As the last two words slithered out of his mouth, he pushed an index finger into her wet groove and began stroking her hard clit through the wet panties. 

"You walk around wet like this all the time?" he taunted. Rubbing faster, he noticed her changing attitude as she was no longer pushing on his arm but instead was grabbing it. 

"Tell me you like it." 

She moaned long and breathy as he demanded again, 

"Tell me you like it, if you want me to keep going." 

His words drifted in to her thoughts followed by the realization that she did not wish him to stop, she was too close to cumming. 

Besides, she couldn't very well finish herself off in an alleyway. If they were caught now, he would go to jail but if she were alone, she would have to complete her masturbation until she reached climax and then she might go to jail...and she didn't even start this whole thing. 

Tim's mother felt that she had no choice but to tell him, "yes, I like it, damn you!" 

"Tell me you like to see Tim get his ass kicked by me." 

She moaned but wouldn't respond. She couldn't, it would be a betrayal to the son she gave life to. If she could just keep quiet and he would just keep playing another couple of seconds. 'God, why am I soooo turned on right now?' she thought as she squirmed. 

"Tell me, or I quit right now." 

He stopped his hand's movement and she gasped, looking back at his face, frustrated. 

"Tell me, bitch. Tell me that me beating your cunt of a son turns you on, or I fucking walk away right now." 

She was so close. She had to say something, she needed him to finish, more than anything she had ever needed in her life, she needed him to finish. 

"You beating Tim up, turns me on," she blurted out, "now finish me goddamnit!" 

Squeezing her hand over his and forcing it back onto her pussy, she realized that she actually felt a freedom announcing her desire. And it truly was her desire, not just something he was forcing her into. She got hot watching the bully apply his trade on her son and she wanted nothing more than to cum right now. 

"Beat the fuck out of him, I don't care, just make me cum!!!" 

It was this admission that allowed the release of her juices into his hand and seemed to make her orgasm rise in intensification. She never remembered cumming so hard in her entire life, as she grunted -- trying not to scream in a public alley -- where anyone could hear. 

Finally, she slumped in his arms and he released her, letting her fall to her knees, skinning them. He wrote something on a piece of paper and stuck it in her hand. 

"That's my address. My parents will be out tomorrow after nine in the morning. Come to me then and prove me right and I'll make you feel like you never have." 

Staring at him as he cockily walked away, her mouth hung open. Looking at the address in her hand she realized her panties were soaked as her pussy was far wetter than she could remember it being in a very long time.

- To be Continued

Bully Gets Wimp's Mother Ch. 02



Once again, this is fake, you know... fantasy. If any mother actually does what this one does, she should go to jail and as if it needs to mentioned, bullies tend to be weak-individuals who lack something in the man junk department and try to make up for it by hurting others(wow, kind of a blanket statement on my part...oh well).

Also, if you haven't read part one you will not have the foggiest idea of what is going on here, so go find it and read it. For those who did read and/or comment on the first part...thanks, I deeply appreciate it. With that being said, I hope you all find this as titillating as I do. Enjoy! 

*

Olivia, still shaken, could not believe what she had said to her son's bully in that alley. Close to 24 hours later and she now felt ashamed that she had betrayed her son in that way, even though she still enjoyed the lingering flashes back to the orgasm she felt at the hands of her son's bully.

She spent yesterday at the emergency room -- again -- as apparently Tim's arm did re-fracture when his cast broke against the curb of the street. He arrived late, hobbling in and sobbing after lying in the street, writhing in pain, for about a half an hour before he pitifully picked up his bag and went to school. 

The principle called Tim over when he spied him finally stepping on campus. His heart went out to him as he called an ambulance and the boy's mother. Tim felt reassured as the man showed an overt amount of sympathy... more sympathy than his mother did, when she arrived at the hospital. 

Confusing the anger she felt at Tim for being such a perceived waste of manhood and the anger she had toward herself for not interfering with the violence perpetrated upon him, (after all, didn't she just stand there, witnessing the torture from across the street, feeling herself turn on in a way that she hadn't since she was in high school -- when she was always manipulating the bigger and rougher boys into inflicting pain on weaker shits), she wasn't in a good mood at all. Standing in the emergency room, waiting for x-rays and re-castings of the arm and anything else the doctors wished to see, all she could do was feel put out and put upon. 

What added to the entire situation and made it all so much worse, for her, was that while her son wallowed in pain and humiliation, she was crying out in orgasmic bliss at the hands of the bully -- screaming for him to hurt her son as she came harder than she had in years.

Driving Tim home from the hospital, she looked at him for a moment and then muttered, "maybe you should stop antagonizing him." 

"What?" he exclaimed in shock.

"You heard me. Stop making him hurt you."

Tim began crying.

"Is that going to solve anything? STOP acting like a little pussy and STOP pissing him off and maybe you'll STOP getting beat on. Jesus Christ, you are such a wimp; you never defend yourself and then you come sniveling to me OR your father OR the principle about it," she spat.

Her son sobbed and tried plying his excuses.

"JUST SHUT UP!" She screamed. "I can't handle this anymore. Settle your own problems or keep away from him, but stop going to other people to fix your business. It is not anyone's problem but your own and the more you share the more pathetic you seem and then I have to be embarrassed by you. Just stop!"

She drove silently the rest of the way home, Olivia not understanding anymore than her son as to what just happened. She definitely was no longer up for any mother of the year awards. Especially since she could not deny that there was a certain arousing sensation she experienced when she was yelling at Tim. 

Removing the keys from the ignition, she turned toward him as he opened the car door. Grabbing his closest arm -- his broken arm -- she pulled him back and he screamed in pain.

"Don't try talking to your father about any of this. I mean it. Do you understand me?"

He sniffled as he looked at the rage on her face. It frightened him.

"Answer me, Tim, do you understand me?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Good. Now go straight up to your room and don't come down again tonight."

He ran inside and up the stairs and she knew that he did as he was told, as she heard his bedroom door slamming in an angry retort. She could care less about that right now though...let him sulk. As long as he didn't do it around her or disturb her for the next thirty minutes or so. 

Gliding into the master bedroom, Olivia closed the door. Ripping the zipper of her skirt down, she stepped out of it as it hit the ground and yanked her panties down. Lying back on the bed, she brought her hand down to her incredibly juicy cunt and began to rub hard. 

"I haven't been this wet since high school," she muttered as she felt her juices squish. Lying back, Olivia commenced manipulating her pussy, her hand a blur. 

There was no desire in her to even play at slowness as she rammed three fingers immediately into her hairy twat and finger fucked herself hard. Repeatedly ramming herself, hard enough to cause bruising, she raised her legs by bringing her feet up on the bed to her ass. 

Moaning loud, she was neither cognizant nor empathetic of whether her son could hear her or not. 

"Oh fuck, yes, come on, cum you wet bitch!" she screamed, almost hoping the wimp could hear her and realize that pushing him around turned her on. Her motherly instincts did not even exist right now, they were shoved deep within herself, as a darkness raised its horny head and took control; and this darkness turned her the fuck on. 

She gripped hard, squeezing her cunt, attempting to imitate the way the bully had handled her. Moving her palm against her clit, Olivia pushed her hand down hard, rubbing in an intense and speedy blur, spreading her legs out and then closing them, gripping her hand as she came.

But this wasn't just a normal orgasm. She intensified the experience as the familiar stirrings started to hit by flashing through images in her mind of the bully hurting Tim and then her hurting and humiliating him. Olivia gasped as she threw her pelvis in the air, straining in orgasm as thick white liquid flowed out of her twat -- this is how she squirted, when she did -- but that hadn't happened since she was eighteen. She shook, uncontrollably, as the flow increased and then ended, seeing her fall back to the bed breathing hard.

"Oh my God! Oh fuck!" Olivia gasped as she tried to catch her breath, her abdomen rising and lowering quickly. 

She could hear Tim crying through the wall of her bedroom and realized that he probably heard her and haphazardly connected some dots. 

"What the fuck is wrong with me," she gasped as she lie there, spread out and spent.

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, he 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, piece of shit?" she said half-joking and half-hoping he would say yes.

"Yeah, or shit stain, I don't care, either."

"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. 

Sweat rolled off of her body as she gasped and stared at the phone, shaking, cum oozing from her pussy.

"Take a picture of your cunt for me, quick, do it now, hurry!" he urged her. Still feeling the tremors everywhere, she grabbed the camera and stuck it between her legs, snapping a picture and then sending it to her son's cell phone.

"Oh my God, that is so hot and nasty. What the fuck is that white stuff?"

"That's my flow. I can have visible cums, kind of like squirting, but it doesn't squirt," she answered back, still gasping.

"Shit, that is so awesome. You ever cum for your husband like that?"

"No," she admitted...not really caring right then if she gave away a secret of her marriage. It somehow seemed right to share it with him, considering everything else she had shared.

"Have you ever cum like that before?" He was inquisitive as hell but she would chalk it up to his youth and relative inexperience with different women. "Yes, when I was younger," she replied.

"When you were with bullies?"

They both got very quiet. He wanted to hear the answer and a part of her did not wish to speak it. But she had gone this far already, she reasoned.

"Yes, with bullies."

"You want me to give you a present?" Peter asked quietly.

"What kind of present?"

"The kind you used to ask guys like me for."

She thought long and hard at this point, what the hell was she getting herself into.

"Yes or no?"

This was almost contract bullying and the age difference...she understood that everyone involved was legally adult and she wasn't technically corrupting a minor, but there was an age difference which should result in her being the responsible adult.

"Yes or no?"

Olivia was sure it would be Tim, that would be hurt, but could she do it? The turn on would be immense. 

"Yes or no?"

God, he never gave her time to think...to get her head on straight. She already let him get the advantage today; in fact, she participated fully, even though it was through the safety of the phone...he couldn't touch her physically. 

"Yes or no, Olivia Redmon?"

Imagine the power of the orgasm she would have, after seeing the new damage to her son -- meant just for her.

"Yes! Do it!" she finally exclaimed, letting the words burst forth before she could rethink them, or take them back.

"I need you to do something first."

"What?"

"Take the phone to the piece of shit's bathroom, but don't do up your pants...and leave your cummy cunt alone, don't even wipe it yet."




Bully Gets Wimp's Mother Ch. 02



She grabbed her cell and waddled upstairs to Tim's bathroom. 

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, puzzled.

"Grab his toothbrush and put it in your pussy."

"WHAT? Are you nuts? I don't want that piece of shit tasting my pussy!" She had to admit, she kind of got a thrill calling him that..she was just glad that she remembered Peter's request.

"Do it. I'll tell you why tonight."

They were silent and she fidgeted with the brush.

"Trust me. I got a good reason. Besides, picture his face as he is forced to brush with the cum made for me."

She grabbed the brush and pushed it gently up her twat, feeling the scraping and scratching of the bristles. Pulling it back out, she examined it, coated with the secretions from her pussy.

"So what? Just put it back to dry?" she asked.

"Yup...So how did it feel up there?"

"It hurt. Remind me never to fuck a toothbrush."

He laughed and then, finding his laugh infectious, she joined him.

"Now, go into his bedroom and clean up your cunt with the shit stain's pillow case. I want his face lying in the cum you made for me."

"You are sooooo bad." She tittered.

"You like it though...right?"

"God, help me, I do."

Ripping Tim pillowcase off of his pillow, she carefully -- and fully -- wiped up her snatch and then replaced it on his pillow.

She reminded him one more time that he should think about giving the phone back since she and her husband pay for it and they each hung up.

Around five, Tim staggered in, with his right eye swollen shut. Her present! She couldn't help herself as she literally felt her pussy gush. 

"What happened?"

"Nothing, it's my problem, remember? Not yours or Dad's or the Principle's," he spat at her.

"You got that right mister. And I better not hear you spout one bad thing about Peter, either...to anyone," she smiled, in an almost sinister way.

"How do you know his..."

"His name? I just do. Come here and let me see that."

Timidly he walked over to her...afraid. She placed her finger gently on his swelling eye socket and the quickly pushed. He screamed in agony.

"Oh don't be such a whiny little piece of shit, I was just checking for permanent damage and there is none. Now go to your room and stay in there tonight, no dinner tonight since you provoked him when I specifically told you not to."

"No, mom!"

"Yes, and you can stop the sniveling too." 

He ran upstairs and slammed the door as she pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number.

"Hello, Peter."

"You like my present?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do."

"What happened, is he going to report me again?"

"Nope," she reassured him, "I sent him to bed without dinner for provoking you and told him not to say anything bad about you to anyone, or else."

"Really?" he replied in shock.

"Really," she paused, "so how did the toothbrush come in to it all?"

"Oh, yeah, I told him to keep his mouth away from my girlfriend's pussy or I'd hurt him even worse."

"Oh my God, really?" she laughed, "that's actually pretty funny."

"Yeah, I thought so. Now, when he brushes his teeth tonight, I have the right to bust him again."

"Yeah, I guess you would, that is, if I was your girlfriend."

"Oh, you have been since the alleyway...you just haven't accepted it yet," he stated firmly.

"Well, okay," she paused for a second, weighing her options, "I guess if I'm going to be your girlfriend, you should hold on to that phone, instead of giving it back -- you will probably need to be able to get a hold of me." 

She ended the call with a push of a button and realized that she now had some sexual steam to release. She supposed that her husband would benefit from that tonight and as horny as she was, he wouldn't know what hit him. First, however, she needed to make sure that the piece of shit remembered to brush his teeth.

-- To Be Continued. 



Bully Gets Wimp's Mother Ch. 03



It's all fake...all of it, not even one syllable in this story is real or comes close to reality. As such, this would fall into the realm of fantasy and not much more than that. Its subject will interest some, titillate others, and put off the rest. This is understandable as it stretches a concept to its very dark extremes, so be forewarned.

As an added warning, this is a direct continuation of parts 1 and 2 and you most will need to have read them in order to get what is happening in this one. Please visit them first, if you are not familiar. However, this chapter is just about Olivia's struggle between the darkness that arouses her to such extremes and her honest desire to be a good wife and mother and there is a decision made on her part, whether right or wrong. 

For those who have voted and commented, thanks! I really appreciate all the participation, even if it is negative. As for those who have just read the first two parts and done nothing else...thanks as well. Knowing that thousands have read what I have written is a thrill for me. This chapter and future chapters will be more involved and difficult to write properly, so please excuse the extra time taken to do so. I would rather spend longer in order to include chapters that broaden the stories and characters and not rush into something and give you inferior crap. Enjoy part 3. 

"Dr. Phillips will see you now, Mrs. Redmon," the petite, cute, receptionist sang into the lobby where three people waited: a teenager with a heavy acne problem, a sad-looking man of about fifty-five years of age, and Olivia. Spending the past twenty minutes crossing and uncrossing her sexy, shapely, and stocking-covered legs did more to pitch a tent in the now too tight jeans of the teenager than it did to quell the irrational nervousness that she now felt.

Standing and carefully smoothing her skirt, she walked into the office of psychologist Timothy Phillips and closed the door behind her. Looking around at the fully furnished room, the rich mahogany tones stood out to impress her with the professional success that Dr. Phillips must have found through his work. She couldn't help but notice quite an amount of religious tokens and representations displayed around the office. He was definitely Catholic as a crucifix hung on the wall behind his desk. She wondered if anyone who was an atheist ever came here and just how much he would be affected by hearing her story. Unfortunately, she was, for the most part, stuck with him, as he was the only psychologist who could start seeing her immediately. Most therapists in town had a three month long waiting list and she needed help now, that is, if she was going to stop. 

"Hello, Mrs. Redmon," he greeted her as he offered her his hand.

She shook it and nervously spouted out, "Doctor, before we start, I need to know that everything we talk about here is truly privileged and that there will be no judgment from you, I am trying to fix something very wrong with me and your help won't mean anything if you just sit there and judge me."

"There is no judgment here, Olivia, and yes, everything you say to me stays in this office as long as I don't believe you will do harm to yourself or another person."

"What if I have hurt someone, but have stopped and, with your help, will never do it again?" she asked, nearly in tears.

"It sounds like you are contrite about what you have done and willing to see help toward a change, so as long as it doesn't involve a child..."

"It involves my child, my son...um, my eighteen year old son," she stuttered.

"Is this about incest?" he asked, apprehensively.

"Oh my god, no! No way! Never, would I ever think of HIM that way, oh fuck no!"

"It's ok, relax, Olivia, I didn't mean to infer... you are just being very vague with your explication right now," the doctor explained. 

"I'm sorry, Doctor...I am just soooo messed up right now. I just, um, really need your help, please."

"Why don't you have a seat, Mrs. Redmon and we will see what I can do to help you, but rest assured, confidentiality is the cornerstone of my profession."

She sauntered over to the a soft-cushioned chair in the office and Doctor Phillips could not help but watch her round muscular ass shift back and forth, propelled by her equally toned legs, which held just the right amount of tight muscles under just the right amount of shapely arc. Her hips curved out and then came in to a torso that was straight, lean, and powerful, containing 36C breasts that sat high and firm on her chest. Her shoulders seemed to be able to hold the weight of the world and were attached to her beautiful head and face, by a neck that looked like it was made to suck on for days.

Turning quickly, in order to sit down, Olivia noticed the doctor staring at her and sighed. The breathy noise brought his eyes up to her face, where he gazed at a countenance that had seen plenty of sun, from years of running, but her skin was smooth – devoid of wrinkles – almost invisibly covered on the sides by a very light layer of downy hair. Her nose was small and slightly turned up, covered with a smattering of freckles. Lips opened and closed around her words, her full lower lip pouting, while her upper lip was slightly thin and rose above her pearl white teeth in a way that could only make a man think of sex; this was accentuated by her bright, glass green eyes that penetrated a man when they looked at him.

He could feel his cock grow slightly, but then quickly looked at the picture of his family sitting on a bookshelf behind his desk. This didn't seem to work well enough though, so he took his cause to the power of the crucifix he had hanging on his wall and crossed himself quickly.

"Oh my God, really?" Olivia whispered a little too loudly. 

"Sorry, about that, but I...I mean my belief figures heavily into my work, however, you don't need to worry, I do not proselytize to my patients under any conditions."

"Oh, ok, good." 

"So, shall we get down to it then?" the psychologist offered.

"Where do I start?"

"Where do you want to start?"

"My son is being beat up by a bully." 

"Okay, and can he stop the bully in any way?"

"No, he's too big of a wimp and I can't say that I have really wanted it to stop," Olivia stated quickly, not giving herself the chance to think about, making it easier to confide.

"I'm not sure that I understand."

"The bully, Pete – Pete's his name – and I have begun having a relationship."

"What do you mean – relationship?"

"I mean, for some reason, I like it when he beats my son up...I get turned on by it and he knows it and uses it to do things to me."

Phillips sat up, shocked by what he had heard. This seemed a very rare and possibly original psychological malady. Why it was true that sadism had been around longer than the Marquis de Sade's Philosophy in the Boudoir, having a mother receive a sexual charge from violence perpetrated on her offspring was not something that you would read about in professional or academic journals. Perhaps this could become a case study that would see him published in Journals and being respected by his peers. 'Phillips Syndrome, perhaps,' he thought to himself.

"Could you elaborate on the idea of turned on...do you mean in a sexual way?" he stammered.

"Yes, a sexual way...is there another," she spat but continued, "What exactly do you want to know? Does my pussy get wet? Do my nipples get hard? Does the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end while I watch him hurt my son? Yes, all of that happens! For God's sake, my son went to the hospital twice when Pete fractured his arm and all I did was get pissed off at my son for being such a wuss and then turned on over it; it gets so much worse when I eventually talk to Pete"

"What did you and Pete talk about?"

"It always isn't talking. We have had phone sex, I guess if you call it that, and one time, in an alley, he manipulated me into an orgasm that I haven't experienced in years."

He could see that she was squirming slightly in her seat, talking to him now, and that her nipples, at one point not evident in any way, were now rock hard diamonds, ready to cut glass. 

"Have you not experienced an orgasm before this?"

"I have, but not of this magnitude since high school – when I used to date bullies," she responded quickly, mumbling the last part.

"I see. Was your husband ever a bully?"

She laughed out loud, suddenly, explosively. "He's anything but that. My son most likely got his weak traits from my husband."

"Have you fully cheated on your husband with Pete yet?" Phillips timidly asked, almost afraid of the reply.

"I'm not sure what you mean? What kind of question is that?" she asked angered by the Doctor's apparent temerity.

"I'm sorry, I sometimes need to delve deeper in order to understand the exact nature of an issue and with this being such a delicate situation I wasn't quite sure of the words to use."

"Just ask then," Olivia pointed out, relaxing a little.

"Have you had intercourse with the bully?"

"His name is Pete. And no we haven't fucked, yet...that's why I came to you. I want to be with him, badly. I can taste it and would give up just about anything in order to have him, but it's not right. In high school, I was always attracted to people like him, even to the extent of having them hurt people for me."

"Let me ask this: was it the control over the bully that you found arousing or was it the pain that they would inflict?" he asked, jotting notes down on a legal pad. 

"A bit of both I guess...actually no, I think it's the pain that the person is suffering for and because of me. Controlling the bully for me was just a tool to get to the person being beat up."

"Would you say the same applies to your son?"

"I guess so. When it happens, I can't explain it, it just drives me to a dark place where I lose control and all I want is to get off."

"Let me ask another question, if you don't mind, Mrs. Redmon."

"Go ahead."

"Why is it that you insist me calling Pete by his name but not once have you mentioned your husband or son's names today?"

Replying while in thought, Olivia said, "I'm not sure. I've done that? Are you sure?"

"I'm absolutely positive."

"I don't know," she stopped momentarily, then continued after thinking, "Is it because I don't see my husband or son on Pete's level?"

"I don't know is it?" he queried back.

"I guess, when I think about it, that is it. Pete's a man in my mind, while my son and husband are lesser forms of life. I mean I love them, but they aren't what is Pete is and they never will be."

"Let me ask you another personal question, then. How active was your sex life with your husband before you met Pete?"

"It was actually pretty awesome. You see Doctor, I have worked long and hard, for many years, to mature and get control of myself so that I could live a life that anyone would consider successful. That led to me calming down and gave me the ability to appreciate those that I loved, including all that my husband offered with his unconditional love for me. I hope you understand just how successful those facets of our marriage made me feel."

"I can completely understand that. How's your sex life with your husband since Pete?"

"Non-existent...I keep giving him excuses, but the truth is that sex with him is kind of distasteful now. He's not Pete; if that makes sense...I can't stand this, I want to want my husband. I want to protect my son. I want to NOT cheat on my husband. Please help me," Olivia pleaded with the psychologist.

He wondered how to handle this. Yes, it was true that he needed to help her, but he needed a lot of information from her in order to create a research packet on Phillips Syndrome. He needed to take this very slowly and keep her stationary for a little while. How to do this, how to keep her right where she was, until he had time to observe her, he had to figure this out, and work it in such a way that if something did end up harming her son, he could not be implicated. It isn't that he wanted the child harmed, God forbid. 

He just wanted to be respected in his professional and spiritual community and this could push him right into that position, as well as possibly save other – future – children from harm if he could link this to the string of mothers who kill their children after suffering some sort of psychological break. Olivia was much like them, in the way that mothers are supposed have an instinctual drive to protect their children and some seem to lack that, just in her particular case she gets gains a vicarious sexual thrill from the harm being perpetrated on her son.

"Mrs. Redmon, our time has come to end, but rest assured I can help you become well."

"Oh, thank God, really?"

"Absolutely, but I need to get to the bottom of all of this. I think, for now, that we need to visit twice a week for now, if that's alright. Can you cut off all contact with Pete for right now?"

"How do I do that? He stole my son's cell phone and has every number that was in it, including my husband's. Pete has already threatened that if I don't talk to him, he would call my husband and..."

"Can you change your phone numbers, in a way that your husband would not be aware of the reasons behind it?" the doctor queried, amazed at himself for asking a patient to lie to help cover-up a pattern of behavior...it was against all psychological conventions, not to mention it was highly unethical. Could he cross that ethical boundary? It would be a means to an end which could result in rich rewards for many people (not to mention himself).

"How do you mean, Doctor?"

"Let your husband know the truth, that your son's bully stole the phone and is making harassing phone calls and the only way to stop all of it is to cancel and reestablish your plan and to change your home phone number. That stops the bully's, I mean Pete's, calls for now and allows you time to work with me and heal yourself."

"Not bad,' he thought to himself, 'this might actually work.'

"Okay, I can do that...what do I do when he beats my son up?"

"Unfortunately, until we get you healed more, you will have to let that behavior lie. Disrupt it only if your son's life is in jeopardy in some way, or if any physicality will result in permanent physical damage. And then I would like for you to keep a journal of your thoughts, feelings, and actions when you see the damage done to your son by the, I mean Pete."

'Wow, he better hope none of this backfires on him. This is an awfully risky way to proceed,' he internally worried but then allayed his fears with the reasoning that with no significant risk has there ever really been significant professional rewards. He just might have to attend confession and commit to a little more penance until this case study was committed to journal paper.

"This journal," Olivia asked, "what if I masturbate, should I mention that?"

"Absolutely, note everything and then we will discuss it when we meet."

"You're not going to use it to get off are you?"

"Oh my goodness, no," he gasped, "I am only attracted to the idea of being a good husband to my wife and father to my child. I would never use a patient's journal for personal gratification; that would be crossing a line that I am not even interested in."

"Okay, I will write a journal for you."

"No, not for me...for you...as a tool...to make you better."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Olivia set up her next appointment and left, feeling, at last, like she could see a pinpoint of light coming at her from the end of a very dark tunnel. 

It had been three months and the visits with the doctor – as well as her complete lack of communication had resulted in the ability for Olivia to relax a bit. She had to explain to her husband that she had been receiving crank phone calls and that in the end a new cell plan would give the entire family new phones and a cheaper plan. 

She still had her moments, as Pete's violence on Tim had increased after she cut off communications with the bully. Keeping her hands away from Tim, she discussed her feelings with the doctor and found her need to masturbate to her son's pain waning. It didn't mean that it didn't turn her on. For instance, now when she fucked her husband she would close her eyes and picture Pete beating her son to a pulp. Make no mistake either; what she did with her husband now was fucking, straight out. She received no gratification from making love any longer and what she shared with her unknowing husband was now rough and violent; clawing, biting, thrusting, grunting, pounding, and slamming. Bruises and bite-marks and bleeding scratches were evident on both of their bodies and sex took place now more frequently than at any other time in their marriage.

Jim, her husband, had noticed the change and loved this new wild side of his wife but was too stupid or ambivalent to her motives to care why it happened. After all, how many 42 year olds walked into work every day with their dicks worn out and marks of violent sex all over them? This was his dream come true, no matter what brought it about. 

This naiveté about his very own family was also what allowed Olivia to be able to cover up the beatings that Tim took from Pete. She may want to stay away from the bully, but by the doctor's suggestion it was best to let him continue with his interactions with her son, as long as his life was not in jeopardy. This could only happen if Jim remained ignorant and convinced and Olivia knew how to make that state of bliss continue.

It was on the next visit to the doctor that he made a request, which sent her sense of control and propriety spiraling away, faster than the speed of light. 

"What do you mean call and invite him?" Olivia asked her mouth agape and her understanding ripped asunder.

"I need to understand why everything that is happening is happening; to do that I really need to eventually meet with all involved parties, while keeping your specifics private to yourself. I am thinking that if we meet with Pete first, that I can help definitively separate him from you."

"Okay, that actually sounds reasonable. I'll ask him," she acquiesced.

"Good. Keep everything on an even keel for a couple of days and give me a call on my private line when you know whether Pete will come or not." 

Phillips jotted down that phone number on the back of one of his cards and handed it to Olivia.

"Go ahead and set your next appointment with my receptionist, and we'll get you fixed up."

"Thank you Doctor, I'll call you soon to let you know," she said as she stood and shook Phillips hand and then left.

"Now, if I can get him into counseling, I can push Olivia and Pete toward the conclusion that will benefit the research paper the most," Dr. Phillips whispered to himself, his voice mumbling and under his breath.

What the good doctor was not aware of was that Pete had been following Olivia for weeks and had already figured out what was going on. She was almost his and he wasn't going to let some pussy son-of-a-bitch take that away from him. Watching her from outside the building, he figured that he would wait for the doctor to come out and then put the scare into him.

He jumped a little, his concentration on the front doors of the building broken as the phone he had taken from Tim rang shrilly. 

"What?" he snapped into the mouthpiece of the tiny cell phone.

"Pete? It's Olivia. Is it possible that we could meet?"

"You looking for something all of a sudden? Haven't you gotten the messages I sent home with your kid? Why now, out of nowhere?"

"It isn't exactly out of nowhere. I have been seeking help and now I need your help," she requested quietly, almost shyly.

"What kind of help? You didn't need any fucking help...you were already perfect."




Bully Gets Wimp's Mother Ch. 03



"I'm not perfect, Pete. It's one thing when you are beating up Tim, but I can't be involved...it's just wrong."

"And next, you stop me, I bet."

"I haven't done one thing to interfere with you, not one. I have worked really hard to keep my husband's nose out of your business and to keep Tim from going to anyone for help. You are safe and now I need to be safe and I need your help to do that."

"What do you need?" he asked her, suddenly reserved.

"I need you to come to my doctor's appointment next Tuesday at 4pm. The two of us will talk to him together about us."

"Tell me one thing first, and I will go."

"What?"

"When the piece of shit comes home after I kick his ass, does your pussy still get wet? Do you still rub one out thinking about it?"

"Pete, I don't think..." she started.

"Answer me, now."

"This isn't..."

"NOW!!! He screamed into the phone.

"Yes, ok, I still get turned on," Olivia stated quickly.

He knew that he would still have her, no matter what a doctor might say, but that was okay, he would still fix the doctor, just for shits and giggles.

"I'll go, but only if it is only you, me, and him...everyone else in the building has to be gone before I get there."

"I'll let him know," she replied, "thanks Pete."

"Yeah, whatever." He watched the doctor come out of the building and walk toward the sidewalk, "Look, I gotta look into something, text me his address and I'll be there."

She didn't even get the entire "okay" out of her lips before he hung up on her. It didn't matter though; he had information to gather on the doc if things were to work out the way he wanted them to. Quietly, he followed the psychologist as he walked the six blocks to his house.

Dr. Phillips dismissed his receptionist for the day and assured Olivia that the building was empty except for the two of them. She picked up her cell phone and rang Pete, letting him know everything was safe. It was only about fifteen minutes later when a knock at the door announced the bully's arrival.

"Come in," Phillips welcomed Pete as he opened the door for him. He walked into the office for the first time and looked around at decorations and baubles that held no surprise for him. He had already checked the doctor out thoroughly. He knew everything about him...everything; including the fact that once he began talking to a patient, he became more guarded and that meant that now was the time to...

As the door shut and the doctor walked back to his desk, Pete ran quickly up to him, grabbed him the back of his neck and slammed him, face-first, into the top of his desk. Blood splattered out as Phillips nose broke and Olivia screamed out.

"Pete, stop it!" she yelled at him.

"You really don't want me to do that, do you Olivia? We both know what you want and if you just sit back and enjoy this, I will get you so fucking wet," Pete sneered at her.

Olivia clamped her mouth tightly shut and sat down silently, turned on by the evil stare that Pete had given her. A jolt went through her as he punched the doctor in the head and threw him to the ground.

"Quick, Mrs. Redmon, call 911," Phillips cried out as Pete slowly approached him.

"Yeah, great fucking idea! Hey Olivia, call 911 and then hand me the phone, I'll tell the sheriff myself," Pete replied quickly, almost too spontaneously.

She looked at him strangely, unsure what to do.

"Really, Olivia, call 911 and ask for the sheriff and then give me the phone, I'll turn myself in."

She slowly picked up the phone and listened for a dial tone, suspecting that Pete had shut the phones down, but everything sounded normal. The operator came on the line asking what her emergency was and she replied that she needed to speak directly with the sheriff, "It's an emergency!" After being placed on hold, Olivia handed the phone to Pete and he happily took it. Ramming it into the top of the doctor's skull twice, he then placed the phone against his ear and listened.

"Hey Dad! I was just calling to tell you that I am beating the crap out of that doctor I told you about," Pete smugly said into the phone.

Olivia's mouth dropped open as she stared I shock, while the doctor began to whimper.

"Oh, yeah, don't worry I'll cover all my bases...yeah, I'll make sure he keeps his fucking mouth shut...what? Oh, ok, I'll ask. Hey, Doctor Pussy, you still want to talk to the cops?"

Phillips sobbed loudly, crouched on all fours on the floor, blood smeared and running down his face. Pete kicked him in the stomach, hard enough to lift him off of the ground. Screaming, Pete grabbed Phillips by his tie and yanked him up. "I asked if you wanted to speak to my father you CUNT!"

"No, no, oh god no!" he cried out to the bully.

"No, Dad, he says he's good, Pete said, winking at Olivia, "talk to you tonight, bye."

Hanging up the phone, he threw it at the doctor's head and laughed when it bounced off and into the air.

"Now, you fuck, now we get down to business," the bully hissed at the injured man.

Picking the doctor up by his wrinkled tie, he grabbed his face in his hand and slammed his head into the mahogany desktop and then tossed him like a paper doll over it and into the bookcase, causing pictures to scatter and the crucifix to fall off of the wall and hit Phillips face, leaving a large gash along his cheek.

Pete left the psychologist lying on the ground and walked over to Olivia. Looking her up and down, he couldn't help noticing her heaving chest, moving with breathy excitement and her hard, extended nipples, sticking up, forming spikes in her t-shirt. Her face was flushed and eyes wild, while her hands trembled. 

Pete grabbed the back of her head by her hair and pulled her face to his, his mouth covering hers. Automatically, her mouth opened under his as she accepted his thick tongue, worming her own around his as her hands wrapped his head, pulling his wavy, shoulder-length hair hard.

He released her, the two of them connected by their own heavy breathing, the excitement in their eyes, and a string of saliva – hanging between their mouths.

"Oh God," Olivia whispered.

"Yeah. You wet?" he replied.

She nodded, with an evil smirk on her face.

"You wanna really fuck this guy over?"

She looked at the doctor, who was struggling to get up on his knees and then back at the bully...her bully.

"It's so wrong; he was supposed to be helping me to get better."

"Better? You call taking you away from who you truly are, better? You aren't meant to be living your entire life raising some piece of shit and laying back, making love to a pussy son-of-a-bitch. You get off on hurting people, just like I do. It's a natural thing to do what is inside of you. My father taught me that...he was the nastiest bully of all and his life is so much better because he embraces who he is. He took over from his father as Sheriff and when my Daddy's ready to retire, he will hand it over to me. My family has always been bullies and we control this county and we do it because it is the way things are meant to be, just like you are meant to fuck me, fuck your husband over, and fuck up people like your son and this cunt," he pointed at the doctor.

"Only with me can you really feel life and experience who you truly are. Just think about how you cum when you even talk to me. Does your dickless husband ever make you cum like that?"

Olivia shook her head, embarrassed.

"So, are you going to let this fucking head-shrinker brainwash you into being a small town robot wife, acting like you are supposed to, like everyone expects the good wife to act, or are you going to stand up for yourself and be the woman we both know that you are?"

"Your father's really the Sheriff?"

He nodded.

"You're going to take his place no matter what?"

"We own this county, lock, stock, and barrel," he assured her.

"So you can do whatever you want, no matter what it is?"

"Baby, my uncle's also the County Prosecutor; my older brother is the elected coroner; my cousin is the County Clerk..."

"Really?" she asked – getting more wet and more sexually excited with each increasing proclamation of power and prestige.

"So, do want to get better, or do you want to help fuck him up?"

"Let's fuck him up...bad," Olivia sneered, feeling a surge of power and sexuality spike within her.

"Good, get over by the couch."

She moved where Pete told her to, while he grabbed Phillips and dragged him over to the couch, throwing him onto it. Looking around for a moment, he spotted a gym bag close by. Approaching it, Pete opened it and sifted through, pulling out a small towel. Walking back over to the couch he threw it into the doctor's face.

"Clean yourself up, asshole."

The towel dropped onto Phillips' lap as he continued to cry.

"NOW!!!!" Pete screamed. 

The psychologist jumped, quickly grabbing the towel and wiped his face.

"I asked my father about you. Good, church-going, family man is what you are; but not for long. When he told me that your reputation meant everything to you and that you would do nothing to ever hurt it, I knew that you were the biggest pussy I had ever laid eyes on. What kind of man cares about his reputation above anything else? Hell you can't even do what you need to do in life if all you care about is your goddamn reputation...just ask my dad."

"Your father's corrupt," the doctor spit out.

"That may very well be, but he gets done what he needs to and doesn't really give a shit what anybody thinks of him and that's a real man," Pete spat and then paused, a sinister smile growing on his face, "He tells me that he used to beat the fuck out you back in school."

"He's a bully!" Phillips cried out.

"Yeah well, me too. And from the moment you met me, your life is going to change in ways you never – ever – thought it would."

"I do- do- do- don't understand," the doctor stuttered.

"Oh, you do-do-do-do-do-don't?"

Olivia laughed, in spite of herself.

"Well, let me tell you, your about to cheat on your wife and your family, whether you like it or not."

"Huh?" Phillips questioned.

"You tried to mess with my life and with what I wanted. I went three months without seeing my girlfriend here and that pisses me off. You're going to pay for your interference. You know what? You're gonna fuck your patient here, cheating on your wife and breaking your professional code."

"Huh?" Olivia asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You heard me, you two are going to fuck, right here, right now!"

"Pete, I don't want him, I want you...I'll fuck you."

"You'll fuck who I tell you to."

"Wait," Phillips interrupted, "I'm not going to have sex with anybody either."

Pete laid all his strength into a punch straight to the doctor's gut, robbing him of his air.

"I already said that it didn't matter whether you want it or not, now just shut the fuck up, or I'll really hurt you."

"Pete, please," Olivia pleaded.

"Olivia, you said you wanted fuck him up and I talked to my dad about it and this is the only way to make sure that he doesn't start trouble. Think of it as you raping him, fucking him against his will. It'll be awesome."

"But I can't."

"You can if you ever want me," Pete said coldly, flatly.

"You can't mean that," she exclaimed.

"Oh, I can and I do. Either he gets fucked up and over tonight or you can go back to your boring life, with your boring sex, and your piece of shit son. If you do it though, your life gets so much better from here on out. You get real power and can do anything to anyone you want, with no repercussions, like me. If you do, I will make it so great for you and make sure that you have nothing but thick white creamy orgasms for the rest of your life."

"But..."

"You can also do whatever you want to him," he shifted his eyes toward the gasping psychologist.

She looked at the doctor, her pussy hungry and her green eyes excited as she licked her sexy lips, but doubt still lingered.

"Tell you what, baby, sit on the cunt's lap for a bit and see how it feels. This could be really good, if you give it a chance," Pete whispered, his voice thick will vile lust. 

To top it off, he pulled Phillips' head back and slapped him across his face, hard. Olivia's pussy gushed. She stood and with some hesitation pulled up her skirt. Pete walked over to her, holding his index finger up to her for a moment. Falling to his knees he pushed his nose into her pussy and inhaled deeply. She gasped as he grabbed her panty hose and ripped them, exposing her satin panties. Rubbing her snatch first, he then grasped her pink underwear covering her cunt with both hands and pulled, ripping them open.

Standing, Pete waved his arm out toward Phillips, introducing predator to prey and then moved out of Olivia's path. Biting her lower lip, she sat on the doctor's lap, facing him. She couldn't feel any form of bulge at all and wondered if he would get hard. The fact that he had a chance to fuck her, someone evidently better than him or the cow of a wife that he cherished so fucking much, and that he couldn't even manage a hard-on infuriated her to no end. She slapped his face so hard that her hand stung.

"Please, Olivia, don't do this," he begged her, as if the slap woke him up, "You have been struggling with the darkness within you and winning. Doing this could set you on a fall from a precipice that you can never come back from." 

Her hand shot out and covered his face, shoving his head violently back over the rear of the couch, "SHUT UP! I'm trying to think," she said, screaming at first and then eerily calm at the end.

"Pete, are you sure that you want this? You don't want me all for yourself? I don't even have to do anything with my husband anymore...I can be all yours, please," she tried once more, staring him in the eyes.

"This is what I want and what you need to do, for me, then I will do whatever you want me to do form here on out."

"You promise?"

"Yeah."

Olivia squeezed Phillips face hard, digging in her nails and lacerating him in four different places. "If you want to get out of this office in one piece, I suggest, Doctor, that you stop thinking about that bitch at your house and think about how lucky you are to fuck someone like me. I am so much better than your wife at everything and believe me, after this you will never even think about her frigid, dry, slit again. However, if you don't start getting some blood in that dick of yours soon, Pete and I will make sure you are very sorry...I don't take to rejection well at all."

"Think about your son, Olivia, think about Tim," the doctor urged one last time.

Olivia answered by releasing his face and planting her mouth over his; thrusting her tongue inside. Phillips began to close his mouth, and in order to protect himself, bit down on her tongue. She felt his teeth, pinch and close in and removed her tongue quickly. Her head snapped back and Olivia looked down at him with fury in her countenance. Raising her arm, she brought down the back of her hand to the side of his face hard and quick, and then slapped the other side as well. The resonating sound of the slaps echoed through the office as the doctor started crying again.

"You fucking bitch!" Olivia screamed and started raining blows down on her psychologist, left and right and left and right, until Pete caught one of her arms in mid-flight.

"Calm down, baby, I need him good enough for pictures or none of this means anything," Pete told her, attempting to calm her down.

"He fucking tried to bite my tongue off!"

"I was just trying to protect myself...it was a defense mechanism...it was reflex...I didn't mean it," Phillips quickly rattled off.

"Look, Doc, don't do that, because if you try to protect yourself one more time I will kill you, you got that?"

The psychologist looked fearfully at Pete and nodded his head slowly.

"Good, now relax and fucking enjoy yourself, or I'm gonna have to make you sorry...you got me?"

Phillips nodded, replying the very same way as he did last, shaken by the death threat, knowing pretty well that Pete could probably get away with killing him if he really wanted to.

"Just keep your parts out of his and keep on going," Pete instructed Olivia.

She lifted herself off of the doctor and reached up under her skirt, moving her torn panties out of the way, tucking them inside her torn pantyhose; then she reached down and opened his pants. Yanking them violently down, she sat back on his lap and reached down for his penis, which was still small and flaccid. 

"What's the hell's your problem Dr. Shithead?" Olivia sneered, making Pete giggle, in spite of himself. "I know I am a hell of a lot better looking than that cow in your family pictures, why isn't your cock ready?"

"Please Olivia, er... Mrs. Redmon, don't do this. I want to remain faithful to my wife and God," the doctor pleaded, trying once again to calm and defuse the situation. If he could only reach her humanity, the very same humanity that brought her to him, for help in escaping the life that this bully teased her with. 

"Fuck you. If you want to leave here with your dick still attached, you better start playing with it or something; whatever it takes to get it hard."

"Y-y-y-you d-d-d-don't mean that," Phillips trembled and sputtered out.

"Oh she means it alright," Pete reinforced as he pulled a large folding knife out of his back jeans pocket, "I've been looking for an excuse to use my new knife and cutting off your little dick will do just fine if you don't start doing whatever you need to in order to get hard."

"Oh, my God no!" Phillips cried out as he looked down at the floor where his wall-hanging crucifix had fallen.

Pete followed the psychologist's eyes and walked over to the religious symbol.

"You talking to this God?" he asked Phillips mockingly before he picked it up and just as suddenly smashed it across the edge of the desk hard enough to cause an explosion of pieces to fly in every direction.

"GOD'S NOT GOING TO FUCKING HELP YOU OUT HERE, YOU CUNT," Pete screamed at the doctor, spit flying out of his mouth, "NOW GET YOUR FUCKING HAND ON YOUR DICK AND GET IT FUCKING UP, OR I'LL CUT IT THE FUCK OFF!!!"

Phillips started blubbering as he reached down and started stroking his penis. Olivia grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head against the back of the couch. 

"That was so fucking hot, when he just screamed at you, wasn't it? I am sooooo turned on right now," she gasped out before she plastered her mouth over the doctor's again. Her tongue, strong and wet, moved over his, tangling with it, trying to elicit reaction, but when there was none she grabbed his tongue with hers and pulled it into her mouth, sucking on it hard and wild. This was too much for Phillips as his penis began to harden and was soon as stiff and big as he had ever been. 

Olivia could finally feel it, so she reached down, slapping the doctor's hand out of the way, and pushed it into herself. She could barely feel his small size within her pussy, but it wasn't his cock that was important to her but what they were doing right now that turned her on so much; it was so wrong and dark and powerful for her. Forcing someone into a sexual confrontation and taking them whether they want it or not was incredibly empowering and the power she felt turned her on, immensely. 

Leaning forward, she started sliding back and forth, a little trick she learned with her husband to bring more friction to her stiff clit when his dick just wasn't quite doing it for her.

"How's it feel Doc? Come on, tell me what I want to hear, how's it feel to fuck my hot cunt?"

"Good, I guess," he mumbled between shuddering gasps, "but I still don't like it or want it." 

"I guess? I bet that bitch your married to never made you feel this way, did she?" yelled out Olivia as she ignored the last part of his declaration, as his wants and desires mattered very little to her right now. She sped up her movements, to emphasize how much better she was than his wife.




Bully Gets Wimp's Mother Ch. 03



"She ever do this to you?"

He wouldn't answer her, so she leered at Pete, expecting help, letting him know that she was raping Dr. Shithead for him, so he needed to get involved – all with a look.

"Answer her dickless," he instructed as he slapped the back of the doctor's head hard enough to jar it to the side.

"NO! No, she never did this to me, alright?"

"Does her pussy feel as good as mine?"

"No."

"Does your wife have a loose flappy cunt? Hmmmmm?" she asked through the effort she was exerting with her sliding thrusts.

Phillips looked to the side and closed his eyes, beginning to thrust ever so-slightly back, not able to help his body's desires. Pete didn't hear any answer, however, so he slapped his head again.

"Look at her and answer her questions. Don't close your eyes again and don't make me tell you again."

"Yes, ok, yes." Phillips mumbled out.

"Yes, what," Olivia questioned her victim, "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me what that cow has, now, tell me now!"

His sat befuddled for a second, having trouble thinking as a tension in his groin grew tighter, and his ability to keep his orgasm at bay weakening.

"She has a loose cunt."

"Oh God!!!" Olivia screamed out as hearing him berate his wife was an even bigger thrust to her sexual ego. Her twat throbbed and pulsated and she was just about to cum.

"STOP!" Pete yelled out.

Olivia stopped moving and looked at him in frustrated shock, "What the fuck? Why? I thought you wanted this?"

"I do, but I don't want his pitiful cum touching any part of you."

Pete bent over and grabbed the doctor's foot and yanked it up and the slid his shoe off. He pulled the lace out and then instructed Olivia to lift up. Wrapping the string tightly around the base of Phillip's dick, he then wrapped it just as tightly around the top of his scrotum. The psychologist could feel it and began to struggle but Olivia grabbed him around his throat and pushed back and down, holding him in place. 

He could not loosen her grip and started to choke. Meanwhile Pete tied a pretty intricate knot between the penis and balls -- that was very tight – leaving neither the ability to receive or give back the blood that filled them and gave them life. Olivia could notice the change almost immediately as his dick grew in size and firmness.

"Oh God, what did you do?" she asked, a wild look in her eyes.

"I kind of gave him a cock ring, to keep him both from cumming and from losing his erection, but I also wrapped it around his balls. If we don't finish in time, his cock may just start to split open with too much stored blood while his balls might just die and fall off," Pete told her, laughing at the same time.

"How long would this take, I mean, how long can I fuck him?"

"As long as you want."

"This is incredibly hot. Where did you learn this?"

"My dad. He said that they will do this to child molesters in the jail sometimes, after the sentencing and their lawyers left."

"Your father's kind of evil." She smiled at Pete as she released the throat of her doctor, leaving him gasping for air as his airway was now free to accept the oxygen – nitrogen mix which kept all breathing creatures alive.

Sliding again, she almost immediately came, not being able to contain her excitement. The doctor groaned in pain, his dick fat with blood. Olivia licked his face once and started fucking again, slowly but building in speed until she ached in the pain her muscles felt, but it was a good pain. Phillips started screaming, feeling his own pain, which was not so good.

She came five times that evening, not feeling able to continue. The doctor screamed and cried and moaned and thrust, trying to force an orgasm that was right there but never actually attainable. Each time he built up toward that point, his cock grew bigger and fuller, blood flowing in trickles down his cock as it appeared to be right at its breaking point, while his nuts now hung fairly low. 

Phillips never noticed that Pete was recording the entire incident on his phone and would later edit it. In the end, they tied the doctor to a chair, covered his mouth with duct tape and left him sitting in his office for the weekend, until his receptionist found him on Monday. By then, of course, it would be too late to save many things. His marriage was over, as on Saturday morning, Pete delivered a heavily edited version of the video to Mrs. Phillips, which included him telling Olivia that his wife had a loose cunt and that Olivia fucked so much better than she did; Of course, Pete blurred out Olivia's face and distorted her voice. 

Phillips' reputation was gone as rumor rapidly spread that he disappeared that weekend to fuck a very troubled patient, this interpretation had some wind beneath its sails due to the Sheriff's office seemingly at the center of the information release. 

Finally, his balls were gone and his penis misshapen as the two and half days he sat there, tied, with no one coming to look for his "cheating ass" were enough to completely deprive them of life-giving blood. The receptionist could only spot a withered and dark piece of floppy skin hanging between his legs, while seeing that his penis was bulbous and purple and fat, with dried blood flaking off of it. 

When the Sheriff did show up to the call, Phillips was threatened to keep his mouth shut. The entire town was to think that he lost his masculinity in a sexual misadventure and nothing more. The Sheriff then let Phillips know that his only regret was that he didn't do this very same thing to him back in high school, when he used to the bully to Phillip's wimp, however, he would be willing to visit his son and try it out, if the psychologist did decide to ever talk. 

"In the future, this might teach your sorry ass to stay out of my boy's business," he whispered to the sobbing doctor, who never did share anything with anyone and eventually moved away, nobody ever hearing a whisper from him about any of it. 

-To be continued