The next day, Christine had her normal workload to deal with. She thought about cancelling everyone, but a little normalcy might help her frazzled nerves, and she could find time to work on other tasks too. For instance, when she had her slave April tied up and struggling on the bench, the hogtie and accompanying commands were enough to send the captive woman into a frustrated state of incognizance. The domme figured she could work a little on another task. She sat in front of the computer after securing the mask over her slave's head; she left the ear holes zipped to keep her activities private.
The words had floated around her head since she'd woken up in the morning, both from Ava's programming and from her own. She wanted to make three new recordings; one was a strengthening routine for Ava's slavery, one a deprogramming message for Rachel and the third a reality check for herself. Several of the dreams the night before had been disturbing and the little shivers she felt even now had to be purged from her system.
First for Ava. "You are a weak, submissive woman. You hide it by acting strong and controlling, but your subconscious knows you need to be tamed. It rewards you with delicious pleasure for each yielding gesture, each obedient action, each compliant thought. You recognize your proper place in the world and need your Mistress to command you." Still needed work, but not bad.
Now for herself. "You are strong, controlling, domineering. You are not a slave. No woman owns or controls you. You are an independent thinker; you act on your own, for yourself. You relish your free will and you relish taking free will from others. You love watching your slaves become resigned to their fate and submit, and you love how much they come to enjoy it. Being a slave sickens you. Making your family slaves disgusts you. Neither is desirable or arousing in any way. Anyone who threatens your family must become your slave." Pretty good. Rachel could use the same thing.
Looking at April, she thought maybe she had time now. Rachel shouldn't be home from school for a while, so a little reprogramming was in order. Every bit helped. It was always worrying to get on the machine, but it was mixed with a bit of anticipation at the thought of the intrusion in her most intimate areas - mind as well as sex.
She grabbed a small vibrator, more a tease than anything else. She walked over to April and gently slipped it in. It was a little awkward with the angle of her hips against the table, but the small plastic instrument eventually slid into April's slick folds. She shivered and tried to grind her hips into Christine's hand, continuing to rock in her bonds after the domme walked away. Christine smirked, wondering if Rachel would react the same way when she was tied... Christine stopped the thought.
She drew in a deep breath. 'OK, deprogramming has to happen now,' she thought.
The machine was terrifying and inviting. Christine triple checked that the right program was in place. A mistake here could leave her much worse off. Steeling herself, she gently sat on the machine, squeezing her thighs together over the pommel to hold the remote. She grabbed the remote and put her legs in place, then fastened the straps as best she could with one hand holding the remote. She shivered in anticipation thinking of how slack-jawed and open she'd be in a few minutes... She hit the start button but held onto the remote.
It didn't take long for the spiral to capture her mind or the insistent vibrations to link the whispering words invariably to pleasure.
Rachel slipped down the stairs towards the basement. She had headed home during an assembly, wondering what to do. Something had gone very wrong last night; her world had turned on end and she had to fix it. Ava was leashed and following Rachel's mother. It grated, knowing that the one true Mistress of the house was acting so deferential towards a woman that should herself be kneeling. Other thoughts came unbidden, that it was the way things should be, that she herself should be controlling. They fought for primacy in her mind, attempting to thwart the submissive desires Ava had implanted. Some part of her was heading down to take up a whip alongside her mother, while another was going down to beg to be whipped. Both were arousing, and she wasn't sure which was going to win.
April, the latest mind-fucked woman her mother was working on, should be tied up on the table. She was sure about that after what Christine had said. Her mom also had mentioned possibly recording new messages, ones that were meant for herself and Ava. Rachel barely heard through the door the clicks and distinct whirring of the programming machine as it spun up, capturing whoever was riding it and putting her in an open, programmable trance. Maybe mom had changed her plans for April? She went over her explanation about why she was home, how she was going to help with April, as she fixed her face in the right smiling mask and walked into the basement.
What she found was disconcerting, even knowing that her mother had mentioned her own deprogramming. April was still on the table, hogtied and squirming. Christine had put herself on the machine and was already slack. The remote had fallen to the ground, so it didn't matter whether Christine woke or not; she was strapped in and would soon learn whatever lesson she was supposed to. Rachel's face dropped out of the smile to surprise, then back to a smile. Her mother would be in her proper place again, as the head of the household.
No, as a slave.
Domme.
Slave.
Rachel shook her head, trying to sort out her own thoughts. Not long ago, she would've leapt at the chance to program her mother into a submissive, obedient toy of Ava's. Now, her head was warring with itself, trying to sort out her own desires. Was it wrong that her mother had led Ava around on a leash or not? Was it right to let her mother's deprogramming continue, or should she take the opportunity to nudge her mother back under Ava's thumb?
She stood perfectly still in indecision.
Her mind was torn. Another part of her wasn't, though, and was getting wet thinking of kneeling with her mom next to Ava. Thinking of being naked, tied up next to her mother. Thinking of serving Ava with Christine.
It won. She moved to the computer, and where the playing recording was marked Christine, she switched it to the one marked Ava. The she dashed up the stairs, dripping with her betrayal of her mother, hoping she wouldn't be able to fight back this time. With some part of her still warring inside, she fired a text off to Ava letting her know that she needed training, that the powerful thoughts her mother had put in her head needed to be squashed.
A faint sound outside of the machine caught Christine's attention before she slipped fully into trance. The door opening? Footfalls? She wasn't sure, and soon didn't care.
She woke with a little drool slipping down her chin. The straps opened like she'd programmed them to; she breathed a sigh of relief. It probably wasn't as dangerous as her fears made it but still, it was good to know she was free. She slipped off the saddle and stretched her stiff legs. The motion sent shivers around her crotch as her over-sensitized and abused pussy cried out in sweet agony. Recovery always took a while, and though she wished she could just collapse in bed and sleep it off, she'd have to get April out the door and get herself cleaned up before Rachel got home. Hopefully Ava would be over tonight as well and all of this could finally be set right.
As she came upstairs with April trailing, Rachel greeted her. "Hi mom! April's over, I see?"
Christine stopped at the top of the stairs. "Oh, Rachel. I didn't think you'd be home yet. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Assembly." She walked into the kitchen as Christine lead April out the door. "Brad showed me his panties today and got on his knees." Rachel smirked. "It was lovely. And that bitch Diane seethed! It was perfect!"
"Good, honey. I'm really happy to see you take a little control." Christine stopped in the kitchen and watched Rachel raid the pantry. She came out with a box of Thin Mints. "You need to be doing more of that. Controlling."
"Really mom? Like you?" Rachel crunched into a cookie and offered an opened row to her mother.
Christine declined. "Yes, like me." She nodded once, uncertainly. Was controlling really what she should be doing? "Well, I'm off to shower. I'm feeling a little sweaty after April."
"You look it mom, and you smell it too. You have some fun with April? It's good for you, you know. I've been noticing you've been stressed a lot lately, and you really should be getting more. Help you relax."
"Rachel!" Christine play swatted at her daughter and turned to go up the stairs without another word. She wasn't quite sure what to say.
Her thoughts in the shower didn't make sense. They kept drifting to visions of being enslaved, not the other way around. It was so intense, she struggled to keep from playing with herself. The images flashing through her mind of being collared at Ava's feet didn't end with the shower, either. She sat on the edge of her bed, eyes closed, trying to compose her mind and keep the evil thoughts at bay. It didn't work; they kept intruding with her clit singing their praises and made her pussy drool.
Desperate to end the torment, Christine headed down the stairs, unsure of what she was doing. Rachel's door was closed as she wandered by. She ended up in the kitchen, where she grabbed a bottle of wine from the wine fridge, even though it was early, and settled on the couch in front of the T.V. She flipped it on and started scrolling through. 'Maybe a stupid romcom...' she thought to herself. She poured her first glass.
Christine tumbled off the couch, her pounding head a painful reminder of the two bottles of wine she polished off the night before. It was already close to noon and the bright sun coming through the windows hurt. Her muscles complained from the position she was in when she passed out. She had to shield her eyes to look around. The coffee pot was half full. It probably was cold.
As she stumbled into the kitchen, Rachel rushed past from the living room to grab the coffee pot and pour a cup. "Give me a sec, mom." She popped it into the microwave and hit the minute heat button. Christine stared at her. "Just sit. We have pancakes too and a little bacon left. I'll get those heated if you like." Rachel took the Bailey's out of a cupboard and put some in the coffee before placing in front of her mother. "That'll help with the hangover. We saw that you drank a lot of wine last night."
Christine looked from the cup to her daughter and back again. Rachel hardly ever lifted a finger in the house. Christine didn't allow it, preferring that Rachel concentrate on her studies and on getting the man in her life to do the housework. At least she looked comfortable enough in a little tank top and shorts, not some sexualized maid's costume. 'Wait, what?' she thought as the picture of her and her daughter in matching little outfits flashed in her head. She almost shook her head, thought better of it, then sipped the old coffee. She took a swig. And another. After a minute, the Bailey's kicked in and a little of the nausea retreated. She swigged again.
"She's nice like this, isn't she?" Christine looked up at Ava, who was leaning against the wall at the entrance to the kitchen. "I know you like to have someone wait on you and she's learning pretty quickly." Rachel put the plate with the pancakes and bacon into the microwave and hit the minute heat button again. "Though coffee, pancakes and bacon are not exactly rocket science. You really neglected her household skills, didn't you,
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