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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 had been 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 in 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.
Ava started putting together a playlist for herself first, to break the cycle. Christine had made a mistake allowing this kind of rebellion. It obviously hadn't crossed her mind. She likely had never tried to take down another mind controller. After she finished up, she started working on another, a special one, just for Christine. Taking down Rachel, the stuck-up bitch, was not only a public service for the entire school, but she was spicy. Taking down her mom, though, was going to be sweet revenge for the shit that just went down.
Rachel was about to be useful. Very useful.
*****
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 get rid of all the tension now. 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.
Damn teenagers.
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 reasonably make it then without trouble at work, and they were generally more 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!"
