Melissa smiled as she sat at the kitchen table, thinking of what was to come that evening - the seduction and butt-fucking of her Mom, Veronica Hastings. It wouldn't have been possible without the A-Team; the planning and the seduction techniques and the previous opening of Veronica Hastings, by Melissa's friends and team members, Pam Fields and Ella Montgomery. But also making sure that Melissa had the space to act; her younger sister Spencer had been called over by Ella for a night of anal banging, being told the house was free as Aria was having a sleepover with Alison. In reality Ali and Mona were practising their DP skills on the brunette whilst Mona's Mom was out of town and the house was free.
The door opened and her Mom entered, her suit as crisp and neat as when she had left this morning, "I'm home," she announced unnecessarily, placing her bag on the table.
"Spencer's spending the night at Aria's" Melissa said, which was technically true even if Aria wasn't going to be there. She swung on her stool, putting on a caring and sympathetic expression even as she wondered whether her Mom's asshole had fully tightened from it's hard fucking a few days ago. The photos on the wall of the den showed how gaped her friends had made it. Her Mom gave no sign that she knew what Melissa was thinking, but why would she? She wasn't telepathic.
The younger Hastings gave a smile as her Mom sighed and took off her jacket, "Hard day?"
"The usual, yours?"
Melissa didn't answer instead she moved into the A-Team's plan, mapped out, with trigger points which would subtly guide the secret submissive to becoming her daughter's play thing. She tapped her glass of wine, half-empty, "Would you want a glass? Just the one."
"Just the one?" her Mom smiled and reached forward for the bottle, her expression indicating that she might have more than that.
Melissa gently pulled the wine bottle away, not far or obviously, just a touch so that her Mom's hand was reaching for air. She smiled back, not like Cruella de Ville cackling over a puppy or a Heather over some lesser girl's humiliation. But enough to give her Mom the unconscious message that Melissa was in charge, "Just the one," she repeated. Firm, but again not overly controlling or dominant.
Her Mom paused, unaware that her sub-conscious was taking in the message and interpreting it, not as you can only have one glass of wine' but Melissa is a top and you are a worthless bottom who will obey her'. It wasn't breaking through yet, but enough was seeping through for the Mom to automatically nod and obey her daughter, "Just the one."
Melissa got a glass from the cupboard, one of the smaller ones and filled it half-way, then she drained her own large glass and poured wine to near the brim. It was another message. Her Mom didn't complain or even mention it as she gratefully took her wine and sat at the table, continuing to talk about her day and the case she was working on as if she didn't notice the change in the power dynamic. Melissa let her Mom continue to speak, the Milf asking about the younger woman's day as she sipped her wine. It let Veronica lull herself into a sense of security which she didn't know she needed and which wasn't there anyway. Melissa waited until Veronica had finished asking and then launched into a dramatised version of her own day, making it seem harder and more stressful than it really was; designed to kick a Mom's maternal instincts.
"That's terrible," said Veronica as Melissa finished the tale of the malfunctioning water-cooler. Her expression was so sympathetic it was almost pained.
Melissa moved her shoulders up and back, pretending to have a twinge in them. "Really bad, I think I have a knot."
"Let me give them a rub," Veronica said, unaware that this was a bottom's automatic response was to a top's stress.
Melissa nodded and spun on her stool so that her back was to her Mom. She pulled the glass round with her and took a sip of the fruity wine, savouring it as her Mom got up and placed her hands on the younger Hastings shoulder. She began to rub, non-sexually, just a friendly touch, the type a Mom might give her daughter if she was stressed, but one of them knew it was going to go further.
"You are stiff," said Veronica, even though Melissa wasn't. The Milf sub-consciously not wanting to say anything which would be seen as contradicting her daughter, and if Melissa had said she had a knot, that was what Veronica would believe she had.
"I am," smiled Melissa and sipped her drink, the delectable flavour playing on her tongue. "Tell me more about your day," it was an order cloaked in velvet.
Her Mom began to tell her, explaining the case she was working on and its legal difficulties. Melissa only half listened, she wasn't interested in the tale, only where it was heading. Instead she relaxed and enjoyed her Mom's touch, the older woman's fingers and thumbs moving gracefully over Melissa's shoulders and upper back, gently massaging and rubbing, removing a knot that wasn't there. Melissa smiled to herself, knowing it was getting nearer and nearer, her Mom's innocent touch sending little frissons of excitement through her as she imagined the not so innocent fun she would be having.
Her Mom paused, the story of her day seemingly complete and Melissa slipped from relaxed to control mode, even if outwardly nothing changed. "That's sounds like a tough day," her voice cooed sympathetically, before slightly changing tone, becoming firmer and more controlling, "Let me give you a massage now."
"Okay," her Mom said, as if she had a choice. She sat down on her stool, her back to Melissa.
The young woman moved behind her and put her hands on her shoulders. She began to gently rub, feeling the tension in her Mom's muscles. It was slow and professional at first, designed to get rid of the knots, not make her Mom wet with desire. "How's that?" she asked sweetly.
"Good," her Mom sighed contentedly.
"I'm glad," said Melissa, her voice sweet and innocent, the perfect daughter. She continued to ease the muscles with her fingers, moving round the back and then up to the shoulder's again, squeezing the blade and the surrounding sinews and making her Mom moan gently in appreciation. Then her hands moved down the front, just an inch so that she was still playing with the shoulders. Her Mom moaned again, stretching and relaxing at her daughter, not seeing the lustful smile on the Melissa's face as she rested her chin on her mother's head. She went lower and lower.
"Melissa!" her Mom gasped as the younger Hastings hands slipped onto her tits.
"What?" Melissa asked in the most innocent tone she could manage, her fingers kneading at the plump boobs through blouse and bra "Are you not enjoying your massage?"
It was a deliberately phrased question, that Alison had told her to use when they were making up the plan. There was no way Veronica's sub-conscious would allow her to say she wasn't enjoying it to her daughter, even if her conscious thought was it was wildly inappropriate. It would force the Milf into a cognitive dissonance between her id and super-ego, a step to her giving up total control. The symptom was her Mom's response, "I... you...em..."
"Relax," purred Melissa, "Enjoy my touch."
The dissonance got worse, the ego unable to cope. Veronica wanted to obey her daughter, as a good submissive should obey a superior top, but she hadn't yet realised she was a bottom, living to serve for other's sexual pleasure and her outward brain still thought Melissa's touch was wrong. The older woman straightened and strained, every muscle and sinew, tearing and hardening; becoming even less relaxed than she had been before the massage started. Melissa smiled and ran her hands over the tits, pushing them slowly together and then pulling them apart, her hands relaxed but firm.
"Enjoy, you naughty slut," Melissa said so quietly that if her Mom's ear hadn't been next to her mouth she would never have heard.
"Ooohh," Veronica whimpered, sexual longing and horrified disgust merging in the moan.
"You are liking my touch," said Melissa; it was a statement. Her fingers found her Mom's blouse buttons and she popped them as easily as fresh anal cherry. Her Mom shuddered again, unable to speak and articulate what she wanted. Melissa smiled and slid her hands under the blouse.
There was a bra in the way. But not for long. Melissa's fingers slipped under the lacy material and she eased it down past the nipples and under the titty. Melissa smiled to herself and kneaded the boobs, her fingers squeezing deep into the flesh and her palms rubbing over the teats. It was impossible to pretend it was innocent.
Her chin nestled on her Mom's shoulder as she murmured, "What a slut you are. Letting me feel your tits. Why don't you stop me?"
Her Mom couldn't. Her brain frozen and confused, unable to function. Melissa continued playing with her Mom's titties, squeezing them and enjoying their malleability. Her own pussy was tingling with excitement as she took control. She leant closer to her Mom's ear, purring so quietly that it was almost like a voice in a dream, or a nightmare, "You know this is wrong. Letting your daughter feel your titties. It's depraved. Why don't you stop me? Why don't you reach up and move my hands away, tell me its wrong? Is it because you're a dirty, kinky slut? Mmmnn, stop me if you can. You could pull my panties down and thrash my butt for being bad. Or would you like that too much? Does the thought of dirty incestuous sex with your daughter make you wet? I bet it does... mmmnnn, these nipples are so stiff, you're turned on."
"Mmmnnn," Veronica moaned, shuddering and gritting her teeth.
Then without warning Melissa whipped her hands away and replaced them on her Mom's shoulders. "Wake up," she put a tiny note of concern into her voice, "You're dreaming."
