Ava sat at home late that night, after Rachel left, thinking about Rachel's mom and the control Mis... Christine had over her. Ava's pussy juiced at the idea. Obedience and submission pulsed through her. Her hands reached down under her skirt, starting to push her panties aside, before she caught herself and pulled them back. Masturbating while repeating the learned thoughts was drilled into her, trying to tie pleasure together with compliance and accepting her fate.
She sighed. Again she felt out places in her mind, testing what was still possible and what wasn't. What ideas were safe and which could send her into a jill-off session that would leave her a puddle of submissive bliss. Luckily, there hadn't been any training around Rachel yet. That would come, she was sure, if she had to go back under. But maybe, just maybe, there was something she could do about it. Her special playlist was working on Rachel. Could she make it work on herself? Maybe there was another that could benefit too.
The next day, Christine flopped on the couch after work, comfy in her sweats and slippers, and curled up against the armrest in perfect vegging position. She flipped through Netflix, but nothing seemed interesting. Programs flashed by. Christine let her mind wander a little. Ava was resistant. Very resistant. Watching Rachel change, maybe the strongest person Christine had ever dealt with. She finally settled on finally watching Queen's Gambit.
Ava was presenting a real problem. Usually, Christine enjoyed a challenge, but she couldn't let this girl continue to mess with Rachel. What Rachel had bounded out of the house in again this morning... Christine shook her head. Ava needed to break. Rachel couldn't go out in the little fuck-me outfits she had gotten from somewhere, and it had all started with Ava. Where were they going looking like that? Frat parties? Oh god no.
Christine could feel her shoulders tensing up. She worked them with her hands and shook them out. T.V. wasn't going to work. Ava had her too worked up. Maybe a bath would help. She got up and headed upstairs to her bedroom.
As Christine walked down the hall, she saw Rachel coming out of the master bedroom. "Hi honey. What's up?" Christine was a little puzzled. She'd not realized Rachel had come home.
Rachel jerked to a stop. "Oh, just looking for something, Mom." She pushed around her mom. "Meeting Ava. Gotta run."
"Rachel." Christine turned to watch her daughter run down the stairs. "Rachel! You get back here right now!" She watched her daughter's skirt fly up, showing the curves of her ass. "Put on some clothes!" She heard the door open and slam shut.
'Ava's gonna pay.' Christine furrowed her brow and sighed. Even the bath might not work. She turned and headed into her room. A little nagging thought kept pestering her. She checked her purse. She checked her drawers and her jewelry box. A few more checks and she was pretty sure that everything valuable was still there. Not that Rachel could've hidden anything in that outfit. Still, drugs might explain the odd behavior. Maybe she was sleeping around for...
No, not Rachel. Well, not the Rachel she knew. Or thought she knew. The one that didn't do drugs. The tough bitch that took no shit.
Christine headed into the bathroom, rubbing her temples. Long soak, soft candlelight, a little Sia...
The next few days were just as bad. Rachel was hardly around. She ignored her cell phone. Her clothes showed even more skin, if that was possible. Christine wasn't sure how Rachel wasn't kicked off campus, if she was even going. Well, there were no calls from the district, so that, at least, should still be okay. Rachel wasn't around for meals and flew out with hardly a "Hi mom" in the mornings. Christine hadn't forced a conversation yet; Rachel was a big girl now. She could do what she wanted. Actually, Christine had been lucky. Briana had been a breeze, and somehow the 'rebellious second child' had been perfect too, up until now. Maybe Rachel's defiance was just part of growing up.
If it hadn't been with Ava, maybe she wouldn't have been so upset. She sighed. It had been a mistake to not make time to get in one more session with her, but she couldn't just drop the rest of her responsibilities.
Thinking a little more, she still would've been upset at Rachel.
Her slaves bore the brunt of her tension. It always helped, but only to a point. It was certainly something she enjoyed. Loved, really. But at times it was more work than a real job would've been. Shealyn was a masseuse. Maybe she was available tonight. Or, well, could be made available. It was Saturday, and Christine always had heavy days on the weekends. Working folks often could only make it then and they were pretty profitable and usually the most powerful. Favors had helped with landscaping, repairs and nosy neighbors, among other things.
Rachel had said she was going to be back late. Christine snuggled up on the couch with the latest book in her guilty pleasure series. Her mind wandered to the movie adaptation, but she couldn't bring herself to mess up the series with butchered plot lines and infuriatingly poor acting. She wanted to keep her enjoyment pure. Some tea was on the end table and her favorite blanket covered her curled legs. The only thing missing was a roaring fire, but the smog limits had kicked in.
She tried to focus on the story, but couldn't get herself into it. Usually, these books grabbed her quickly and the hours flew by. Tonight, her mind kept wandering. She kept stewing over Rachel and her recent behavior. She was out with Ava again, and dressed to kill. Her mini dress and matching heels were going to get lots of hungry stares and angry glares. Ava had been a little more conservative, in a blouse and slacks, when Christine had seen her in the doorway. Ava had put her hand on Rachel's back almost possessively. Rachel had blushed and giggled. Christine kept playing that scene over and over in her mind, thinking they were out on a date. It was silly, but it stuck.
Worse, it kept bringing back images of a dream she'd been having over the last few nights. It was... disturbing. She'd always brought her daughter up to be strong and independent, but in the dream things were different. She only remembered fragments, but they were enough.
Rachel quietly stepping into her mother's bedroom and kneeling down beside the sleeping woman. Delicate whispers into the unsuspecting woman's ears, telling her of her daughter's new place in life. "Dream of what I say. Soon you will accept..."
Rachel was on her knees, leaning into a faceless woman's crotch. Her tongue snaked out, expertly dancing across the swollen pussy lips as phantom hands grabbed her hair and pulled her head closer. Rachel moaned into the woman and continued sucking and licking away.
Rachel came down the stairs to head out. She had on a disturbingly short dress that ended just past her round bottom. "I'm heading out mom!"
"Not in that you're not!" Christine pointed up the stairs. "Change now!"
"I can't mom. I've been ordered to go out like this, and I must obey." She twirled towards the door, showing that she was naked underneath.
Christine stood frozen.
Rachel stared slack-faced into the whirling colors, sinking into the trance that held her helpless to resist the gentle whispers that stole her will and wrote in her mind...
"You trust me mother. Believe what I say. Listen and learn..."
Christine shook her head, clearing out the bits of remembered dreams that threatened to engulf her. She hated the images, all of which went against her very nature. Her daughter had to be strong and willful, always the leader and the best. What her ex-husband had done to her would never happen to her daughters. The little tingles emanating from her crotch had to be lies. Her hands didn't think so, trying to drop down her pajama pants, but they could be controlled as well.
She picked up her book again, trying to focus. It wasn't going to work. The tingles were getting more insistent. Maybe she should watch some T.V. Maybe she could order Maria to come over and eat away the images. That would help. Her hand slipped down, under her pants and panties. Ava needed another lesson... Later. Christine would call her up. Make Rachel watch, next to Maria. Her hand sped up. She didn't make it any further in her book before heading to bed.
Christine startled herself awake. She was sweating and had tossed the blankets off in a jumbled heap. The bed reeked of sex. She sat up and sighed. Another dream, this one a little worse. Rachel tied up, red from the whip, Ava closing in and sitting on her face... She slipped out of bed and tossed on her robe. The clock read 1:42am. She needed something to calm herself. Maybe tea, maybe hot chocolate. Maybe schnapps in hot chocolate.
She opened the door and walked down the hall. Rachel's door was cracked and she heard soft moans inside. She couldn't resist a peek, silently hoping it was a toy servicing her daughter. Part of her knew better, and she tried to mentally squash it. She pushed the door open a little further.
Rachel was inside, only heels and stockings on. She was sitting on Ava's lap, legs spread and back arched into Ava's breasts. Ava's hands roamed over her daughter's body, sliding over hard nipples and down into an obviously aroused sex. She played Rachel, making sweet, throaty, sexual music.
Christine put her hand up, figuring she could force Ava downstairs right now. She needed a long, mind-melting turn in front of the spirals.
But that would let Rachel know what was happening. She really shouldn't do that, not so forcefully, right? It could cause a lot of problems with Rachel. And she could get to Ava later.
A little twitch from her crotch said that this was a beautiful scene and she should be enjoying it. She fought that one down.
And, wasn't her daughter's room private? Couldn't Rachel do whatever she wanted in there?
Wait. Where had that thought come from? Christine shook her head. Her daughters' rooms had always been somewhat private, but certainly they couldn't do anything they wanted and could be subject to motherly concern.
Christine pulled herself away just before a loud, guttural moan let her know Rachel had crested. She felt her own sex, already wet from her dreams, squeeze in sympathy, happy for her daughter and her position, even as her mind struggled to discern her true feelings.
She hurried down the stairs. Definitely schnapps.
As she sipped, she heard several more crests, and not just her daughter's.
Sunday morning rolled around, and the girls had already left when Christine finally woke up. She was both relieved and upset; relieved that she had time to herself after last night and upset that she wouldn't have the opportunity to confront either of them. She'd been thinking she might take Ava down to the basement whenever she first came out of Rachel's room. Now she'd have to make sure Maria brought her wayward daughter with her to her session. Ava would know her mother was watching and enjoying it.
That made Christine smile. Everything was going to be just fine.
When they'd first started, Maria had struggled against coming on a Sunday since it was the Lord's day. She strived to be a pious Catholic, which made the sinful behavior Maria was addicted to that much sweeter to Christine. That's why she had set up the regular weekly appointment on the holy day. Maria resisted at first, but now whimpered and followed her Domme into further corruption.
Christine scrambled eggs and toasted a muffin for breakfast. The coffee helped clarify her plans for the session with Maria and Ava. After cleaning up, she grabbed the phone and dialed Maria's cell. It would be off during Mass, but she'd check the message once she got out. Two at once, again. But couldn't this wait until later? Christine shook her head against the thought and smiled as she left a voice mail.
It didn't take long for Maria to show up with Ava. Both were in their Sunday dresses with matching gloves and heels. Maria opted for a sedate bun with minimal makeup while Ava had done herself up. Christine was a little surprised that Ava still went to church, particularly after staying up so late last night. Both Maria and Christine had to fight a bit with Ava, despite the triggers that Christine had implanted. Somehow they all ended up downstairs.
Now Ava was leaned over, her arms tied to the far side of a table, her feet chained to the floor and her mouth gagged. Her beautiful dress was lifted over her ass and her panties were off, exposing her pert bottom for Christine. She brandished a riding crop, tracing lines up and down Ava's thighs. Maria was standing across the table from Ava, holding her own dress up with one hand while the other gently stroked her glistening lips. Ava turned her head and shut her eyes to keep from watching her mother.
"Well, Ava. What shall we do with you?" Christine punctuated her question with a quick crack of the crop against Ava's unprotected backside. Ava gasped in pain. "I am not happy with you, slave." Another crack. Maria stifled a moan. "You are much too willful." Crack. "You think you have a choice here." Crack. "Look at your mother, getting off on watching you get punished." Christine tenderly traced the rising red welts. "This can be easy or it can be hard. It's up to you. Easy means less pain for you. Hard means more fun for me." Christine lowered herself along Ava's back, leaning in to whisper into her ear. "Either way, your mom is going to love watching every minute of your descent into slavery." She kissed Ava's neck and stood back up. "We'll start with a little basic conditioning to see which way you want this." Christine turned on an mp3 player that was already on the table. She put the earbuds in Ava's ears. "Listen for a while, slave, and watch your mother enjoy seeing her little precious child's mind turn soft and malleable."
Ava whimpered into the gag and shook her head. The triggers implanted during her earlier sessions fought her will in her mind until the words slackened her face. Maria let out a moan and sped up her ministrations. Ava's eyes opened, recording the image and burning it into her now receptive mind.
Christine sighed. Ava went under again. This was going to work. In a few hours, Ava would be well on her way to being a perfect little submissive that Rachel could ride every night.
Sunday night brought on bill time. Christine flipped through each statement on the kitchen table. It really was more about getting a bottle of fine wine and enjoying it than anything else, since her clients had ample money and were more than willing to part with it. Christine sifted through each, hardly noticing the totals as she typed in the numbers to her account online.
One number caught her attention. Her Citi MasterCard bill was over $2000 for the month. That was the one that Rachel had for minor purchases. The statement showed charges at typical places for her daughter like Charlotte Russe and Hot Topic, but also bunch from more risque places like Frederick's and the Crypt. Something was not right here. What was Rachel buying? She grabbed the bill and headed up the stairs.
Rachel stepped out of her room just before Christine got there, and was in just a bra and very short sweat shorts. "Hi mom! What's up?"
"I think you know." Christine brandished the bill. "Where am I supposed to get the money for these?"
"Mom, I didn't..."
"Don't tell me that, Rachel. I know damn well you did. Let me see your closet." Christine tried to move past her daughter.
Rachel reached out and touched her mom on the shoulder. "Mom, my room is off limits. You know that."
Christine froze. A little shiver of pleasure washed through her, catching her breath. Something was right about that. "Uh, no..."
"Yes, mom." Rachel gently turned her mother towards the stairs. "We'll go down to the kitchen and talk about the bill."
Christine found her legs walking down the stairs even though she knew she wanted to see Rachel's closet. "But, Rachel, why did you charge all these outfits? You'll have to get a job." She sat at the kitchen table.
Rachel sat down across from her. She reached across to Christine's shoulder. "Mom, just calm down. Big, deep breath." Christine took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She felt some of the stress and worry go out with it. Her daughter's hand felt warm, comforting. "I didn't charge those. You can be sure of that. I don't know where they came from. Maybe you should call the credit card company."
Christine felt her thoughts floating in a gentle fog. Maybe her daughter was right, but it still seemed suspicious. "I... I don't know."
"You believe me, don't you mom?"
"I... Of course, dear. I'll call them." Christine stood up to get her purse.
Rachel walked up the stairs as her mom started hitting the keys on her cell for Citi's automated answering system.
The next few days were exceedingly normal, with little sign of Ava around the house. Rachel wasn't talking about her at all. Christine was relieved. Her plan must've worked. Each of her slaves came and went, blissfully handing over their payment for emptying their minds of all thoughts but obedience and submission. She had asked some of the more affluent to cover the Citi bill after talking to the company, and they acquiesced. Rachel's clothes even seemed to cover a little more when she walked down the stairs, though not as much as Christine would like. Somehow, it felt okay. She fought that down, though. Oh well. You couldn't expect overnight changes.
Unless there was stronger persuasion, and she wasn't going to do that to her daughter.
Christine shuddered. Her dream images came forward each time she thought of correcting Rachel's attitude towards her clothes, causing a little flash of heat from her nether regions about making them more exposing. Each time she fought them back down and moved onto safer thoughts. She needed to make sure Ava was not influencing her daughter. Later.
Wednesday evening rolled around. Christine had a rough day with her thoughts straying from her charges to the problems with her daughter. The only solution was really to make Ava come over every day until she understood her place and let Rachel be the one in charge. She kept thinking about how best to move her schedule around and whether she should have Rachel watching, and maybe Maria. 'But, maybe later.' She kept fighting that thought. After Diane, her last slave of the day, finished up making dinner - Christine was in no mood to cook - the Domme ate alone and washed up her plate. The leftovers went into the fridge with a note for Rachel, assuming she came home. Shouldn't she come home? Wait...
Christine sighed and adjusted her schedule. She figured Rachel could be left out of it for now unless things kept getting worse. All that was left was to call up her slave Ava and make sure she arrived on time tomorrow. She'd briefly thought about starting tonight, but she was just too tired. She could start later.
It turned out she wouldn't need to call Ava. She was over, but not downstairs. Her car was parked outside; Christine saw it out the front window as she stepped out of the kitchen to head up the stairs. How had she not noticed? When had she shown up? She didn't like this. Ava was the first slave of hers that was at her house without her consent and without paying. It established a bad precedent. Worse, the amorphous woman dominating Rachel in her dreams had taken a familiar and disconcerting shape the last few nights, after Christine saw the two in Rachel's room Saturday night. 'I really should do something about this.' Christine looked up. 'It's time to break the pattern. Ava needs to know her place in this family.'
Christine headed upstairs. As she walked by Rachel's room, she heard a muffled sound that she could swear...
It couldn't be.
The door was slightly ajar. After a quick deliberation, she gently pushed it open a little further until she could make out the bed. Rachel was on her knees against the side of the bed, arms tied behind her back. Christine could make out one of Ava's legs dangling over the edge. It was easy to figure out where the rest of her body was, blocked by the door. Rachel's head bobbed slowly as Ava moaned, obviously enjoying the ministrations. Christine saw a hand wrap around the back of Rachel's head, pulling it closer. A deep throated, guttural sound came from the bed.
Christine felt the anger rising up, ready to burst at Rachel. No, at Ava. No. Herself. She wanted to push open the door and demand to know what was happening. She wanted to take control and punish Ava. And maybe Rachel.
Make her a slave.
She felt the stirrings in her pussy, fluttering insistently upwards through her belly. She shivered, trying to control the building desire to just watch as Rachel serviced the other girl. She could feel the juice start to flow, wetting her panties.
Her anger burned hotter, raging against her own reaction. Her daughter, her precious daughter, was in her own bedroom, tied up, eating out a girl that only a few weeks ago she had been calling 'bitch' and 'whore' and 'piece of shit'. If anything, this should be the other way around, with Ava on her knees eating out Rachel. Christine grabbed the knob and opened the door fully.
The tableau hit her hard. It wasn't quite from a dream, but it was close enough. Her anger melted into searing desire as she watched Rachel lovingly service Christine's supposed slave on Rachel's own bed. Ava was fully arched, choking on her passion as she came on the Domme's daughter's tongue. The utter humiliation of the scene rode down Christine's spine and nearly knocked her onto her knees. Her eyes teared up at her failure to raise a strong, independent woman.
It was somehow beautiful.
Something was wrong. Very wrong. She forced herself to tap the rage. Her face pinched up and she lifted her foot to enter and stop this now. 'Rachel's room is sacrosanct.' She couldn't put her foot down in the room. 'What happens in this room is not my business.' She struggled but couldn't make any headway. 'Rachel can make her own decisions. Everything that happens in her room is her decision. I shouldn't interfere.' She cried out, trying to fight whatever had put these thoughts in her head. The anger wasn't enough and the effort distracted her from battling the moist excitement in her loins.
Ava looked towards her, a crooked smile on her face...
Christine shut the door and dashed into her room. She hid in her bathroom, trying to calm down. The bright desire had settled into a dull pressure waiting to be released. Now fear tickled at her mind, realizing she had given herself away.
She needed some time alone to think, to sort this out. She thought of the basement, but some particularly wicked thoughts of what she could teach herself, and maybe Rachel, there kept her away. She finally dressed and headed for a coffee shop. A little java and a muffin and a normal evening crowd would help banish the visions.
After a little latte and some assertive self-control, she had an idea.