Spread Family Thighs and Stuffed Family Pies 2nd Edition
Copyright© 2024 by DaMuddaFukkah
Chapter 10: Elyse Calls the Cops
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 10: Elyse Calls the Cops - A second edition of my story Spread Family Thighs and Stuffed Family Pies. Chapters 1 and 2 are identical whereas chapters 3-9 in the original story has been shortened to just chapters 3 and 4 in the new edition. Chapter 10 in the original; which was just submitted today, is the same as Chapter 5 in the 2nd edition. Synopsis: From the 80's sitcom Family Ties, mom and daughter have to fight for their modesty when, in a moment of anger, mom says she can do anything a man do.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa NonConsensual Rape Heterosexual Fiction Celebrity Crime Fan Fiction Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Father Daughter MaleDom Humiliation Black Male White Female Cream Pie Exhibitionism First Facial Oral Sex Caution ENF Violence Illustrated
The fourteen year old boy standing at the top of the telephone pole didn’t work for the phone company although he was dressed like he did. Obviously, the phone company didn’t employ people as young as fourteen but it was dark out and this was both a good and a bad thing. It was good because it made it harder to see him and it was bad because people might question if the phone company employees actually did work at the top of telephone poles at four in the morning. If anyone did end up thinking he looked suspicious, the boy hoped that the telephone truck that he had stolen less than an hour before, the one that was now parked at the telephone pole’s base, would convince them of his legitimacy. Barring that he still knew the routine; it was to put people off and try to persuade them that what they thought was true was not and that he actually was an employee of the phone company at least until they called the cops. Then it would be time for him to book it on out of there, abandoning the stolen telephone truck and ditching the phone employee uniform as he made his way back home. Should that fail the last card in the deck to play was to just let yourself be arrested and to shut the fuck up. The cops weren’t there to help you; hell, the law made them say that they were going to take anything you said and use it against you. So just shut the fuck up and wait to make your phone call and, once that was done, you still shut the fuck up and instead merely kicked back and let your attorney take it from there. Hopefully though, none of that would happen. Instead, the home phone line he had been instructed to monitor would place an outgoing call and he would then answer it and say what he had been told to say. No one would see him or question what he was doing, he would just do what he had been instructed to do and then finish up and go home as the sun started to come up. It was then, as the boy was hoping for smooth sailing through the rest of the night, that the headphones he was wearing buzzed in his ear and so the boy flipped the switch and answered the call.
“Franklin County 911, what is your emergency?” The boy said in a nasally voice. He didn’t know why he thought a 911 operator would sound like this but that was the way that he pictured it in his mind.
“Yes, I...” A woman’s voice now stammered in his ear. She didn’t quite sound hysterical but she did sound very upset.
“I ... I need to report a rape. Well ... ah-actually tuh-two ruh-rapes. I mean ... that is ... I ... I mean both me ... me and my daughter have both been raped. By ... and ... and buh-by muh-multiple men. Well, they were boys actually and ... and they made my daughter have sex with her father and her younger brother and me have sex with my son.”
“And these boys who did this to you,” the boy then continued in that same nasally voice. In his mind he wondered if maybe he was doing a bad Lois Griffin impression, not that he ever saw that particular cartoon character as someone who would work 911 dispatch.
“Do you know where the perpetrators are now?”
“Yes, I ... I think that they left. I ... at least ... I ... I’m pretty sure that they’re gone. They’re ... at least ... at least they are not in the kitchen with me and my family.”
“Alright ma’am, well then assuming you are out of danger I’m just going to need some information. What is your name?”
“E-uh ... I’m ... I mean ... muh-my-my-my ... I’m E ... Elyse Keaton.”
“I see ma’am,” the boy then continued in his 911 dispatcher voice. “And then the address of your current location?”
“I’m ... I’m at 69 Hill Park Drive ... here ... here in Columbus. That ... it ... that’s my huh-home-home-home ... that’s my home address.”
“Alright ma’am, I have that address now and ... do you know who it was that attacked you?”
“Yes I ... well no. They’re ... well, I think they go to the same school as my kids. They’re all ... well, I think ... it all happened so fast but ... I ... I’m pretty sure my kids or at least my fourteen year old son knew them and ... well, they were all black.”
“I see,” said the black boy. “and your son, the one who you think might have known these other boys, is this the same son with whom you have just had sex?”
For a moment, Elyse was too stunned to reply. At first the question struck her as both odd and irrelevant but maybe it wasn’t. After all, the police were going to have to know all the horrible details relating to her having sex with her son and Mallory having sex with both her father and her younger brother and that wasn’t to mention that she had been forced to perform oral sex on her own daughter too.
“I-um ... yuh-yes ... it ... it’s the same son.” Elyse was now finally able to stammer out. It was the least painful way that she could phrase it and already she was wishing she had something that could make her forget the whole ordeal completely.
“I see...,” the voice in the phone then spoke into Elyse’s ear, “and how many times would you say that you let your own son fuck you Mrs. Keaton?”
Elyse was so surprised that she now almost dropped the phone’s receiver. Did the 911 operator really just say what Elyse thought she had said? The pretty Catholic mom didn’t know what bothered her more; was it the complete lack of professionalism and the use of vulgarity or was it the utter thoughtlessness and lack of sensitivity in the way that the operator had asked her last question. After all, the way that the 911 operator had asked the question made it sound like Elyse had voluntarily had sex with her son and not that she had been forced to do it. Now, if she had been in anything even close to a rational state of mind, she would have realized that she wasn’t speaking to an actual 911 operator but, at the moment, Elyse’s state of mind was anything but rational. Instead, she leaned against the wall like a soldier who has been in proximity to a bomb going off and she stayed on the phone, determined to get help for both her and her family.
“I-what? I ... I don’t know ... uh-a lot. My ... my daughter did too only it ... it was worse for her be ... because she also had to be raped by her own ... by her own father. And ... the other ... the other three black boys who were here ... they ... they also raped both me and my daughter muh-multiple times. Look I ... why ... I just don’t understand why you’re asking me this. Is this really relevant to what’s happening right now? I ... I just need you to send the police and an ambulance to my house. 69 Hill Park Drive ... here ... here in Columbus. Can ... can you do that?”
“Yes ... yes ma’am,” the nasally voice coming out of the phone’s earpiece now said. “I’ll get units rolling to your location in just one minute. I just have a few more questions and then they’ll be ready to roll. Now, you mentioned these boys were black. Can I ask you while you feel it necessary to make this point? I mean, you’re not a racist are you Mrs. Keaton?”
Again Elyse was absolutely dumbfounded. What was the operator talking about? Of course she wasn’t racist. She had only mentioned that the boys were black was because it was one of their defining characteristics and the first thing the police would be able to see if they came across their path. All she wanted was to get some help and now here she was, the victim in all of this awfulness, being accused herself of being a racist. Elyse couldn’t say that her shock was wearing off but what she could say was that she now felt a new and white hot anger rising inside her.
“No!” Elyse now shouted into the phone in outrage. “No! Of course I’m not a racist I ... I just ... I mean I only mention that because-”
“Well I’m sorry ma’am,” said the nasally voice on the phone, cutting Elyse off. “I’m only asking because America does has a shameful history of white women such as yourself falsely accusing black men of rape. Are you sure you didn’t maybe invite these boys over so that you and your daughter could live out a long held fantasy?”
The idea was positively unbelievable and it would have been at that moment that it dawned on Elyse just what was happening when, all of a sudden, something else popped into her mind.
“I ... why ... wait, how did you know that I was a white woman?” Elyse now asked, bewildered. She had been so relieved when the three boys had left but, now, a slow and ice cold fear was returning. It had started in the pit of Elyse’s stomach and now it spread outward. Like tentacles, it reached for her shoulders and her toes as the pretty Catholic mom started to realize just what was going on.
“Well it’s right here in the demographic data I have on my computer” the nasally voice now said.
“Elyse Marie Keaton, age 40. Husband Stephen and children Alex and Mallory. Currently residing at 69 Hill Park Drive Columbus, Ohio. Can you confirm that all the information I have is correct?”