Mother Knows Best

Chapter 1

Christine flipped the scrambled eggs onto two plates, tossing melon slices, grapes and strawberries on after them. She moved over to the place settings on the table as Rachel stumbled down the stairs, still in her night shirt.

“Mmm, smells good, Mom.” Rachel pulled out a chair and sat down. She looked up at her mother, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee. “I need java.”

“Sure, dear.” Christine had a second mug ready. She filled it and passed it over as she sipped at her own. “So what’s going on today?” she said as she sat down.

“Not much. Be home late,” Rachel said between bites.

Christine rolled her eyes at her daughter. She’d had years to get used to being blown off. Rachel was the younger of her two children. “Why, Rachel?”

Rachel looked up from her plate, pursing her lips. “What, don’t trust me?”

Christine laughed. It wasn’t often that Rachel pulled this one out. “Of course not, honey. You know I’m a control freak. What’ll you be doing?”

Rachel glared. “Yeah, I know. And you’re making me one too.” She gulped some coffee. “School stuff.” She looked at her mom, got a stern look back. She figured she better not push it today. “I have a project in Social Studies.” Christine raised an eyebrow. Rachel sighed and continued. “It’s a group presentation. I have to meet up with my partner after school so we can start working on it.”

Christine was mollified. “OK. Let me know when you’re done and where you’re going after that.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, mimicking her mother’s earlier expression without realizing it. “Sure mom.” She grabbed her cup and sped up the stairs.

“Wait! Finish your breakfast!” Christine called after her daughter. It was probably useless. Seniors were through with rules at home. Hopefully Rachel would call. Christine sighed and worked on her own plate.

As she cleaned up, she ran over her own plans for the day. Kendra would be over this morning, followed by Lisa, Sasha and Barbara. Christine was really looking forward to Barbara, who should have a gift ready. The last plate slid into the rack and she closed the dishwasher automatically. Even with all the independence she had gained in the last few years, the power she had with her new business, she still did the dishes without thinking.

*****

Christine tapped the crop in her hand. She tugged the nipple clamps attached to the slave stretched before her. The slave writhed painfully, chains binding her wrists to the ceiling holding her up so she could just reach the ground with her toes. The slave gave a tortured moan, floating in the painful pleasure of her helplessness. Christine ran the crop down the slave’s side, tickling gently before smacking hard against the side of her ass. The slave flinched from the strike.

“What is your name?” Christine knew this took a while, and this slave was still fresh. Breaking them was her favorite part, watching the slow slide into total submission. The look on their faces when they knew they’d crossed the line and would never be free again was so precious. She savored the taste every time she gained a new one.

“I… uh, i… it’s, it’s… B Bar…Barb…” the slave stuttered.

She was cut off by a whip to first her mouth then her tortured breasts. She cried out with each swat. “Wrong again, slave.” Christine glowered at the trembling woman. “What’s your name?”

The slave whimpered, obviously considering her choices. Giving her real name would earn more ‘correction’ from her Mistress, and not answering would be much worse. Quickly she made a decision. “I have no name, Mistress.”

“Correct, slave.” Christine gently flicked the crop against the slave’s swollen clit, shamelessly protruding from her enflamed pussy lips. The slave jumped and moaned in need. “I need to condition you to remember that.”

“Yes Mistress.” The slave shook with desire, already knowing what that entailed. She widened her legs a little, barely able to hold herself up. She felt the chains on her arms lower, allowing her to open her stance further. The dildo slid easily into her slick mons. She groaned as the belt locked in place, holding the instrument deep inside her. The headphones slipped over her ears and started whispering directly to her unconscious. Vibrations barely registered through the trance that quickly washed over her mind and ate away at her will. Soon she found her lips moving, wiping away the name she’d been given at birth and replacing another piece of her identity with subservience and worship.

She was a slave, and that was all she ever needed to be.

Christine stood back and admired her handiwork before turning and heading upstairs from the basement. As she walked into the living room, she heard her daughter in the kitchen, nuking popcorn. Christine hadn’t heard Rachel come in since the basement was pretty sound-proof. It helped keep the neighbors from knowing exactly what her home-based business was. She didn’t advertise; word-of-mouth had always worked even before Rachel and Briana’s weasel of a father had deserted them.

“Hi Rachel. Good day at school?”

“Oh, hi mom.” Rachel opened the microwave after it beeped and pulled out the hot popcorn bag. “It was awesome!” She carefully opened it, avoiding the scalding steam. “Brad came up to my locker practically begging me to go to Homecoming with him, and Conor met me after school with a dozen roses and the cutest desperate face I’ve ever seen. I could see the tent in his pants.” She tossed some popcorn into her mouth and continued. “I’m sure he still wears the panties I trained him to.” Rachel snickered.

“Got them eating out of your hand, huh?” Christine smiled. “I’m such a good teacher.” Rachel snorted. “By the way, I have a slave downstairs if you want to play. She’s almost finished accepting her fate. I don’t know if you’re in the mood for that…”

“I’m heading over to Annie’s to study.” Rachel stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth and started up the stairs. “I just have a few things to grab and I’ll be outta here.”

Christine walked up after her. “OK. Don’t be too late. Oh, and remember you’ve got a dentist appointment tomorrow.”

“I know, mom.” Rachel turned as she entered her room. “Don’t worry. I’m responsible. You’ve taught me well, after all.” She grinned impishly, then turned and flounced into her room, shutting the door behind her.

Christine shook her head and strode into her own room. Leather was fun for a while, but sweats would feel good after such a long day. Four different slaves in training in one day wore her out. They were so much work. She wouldn’t have had so many but now that she was on her own the extra money was the only way to make ends meet. A good bottle of cabernet in the kitchen had her name on it. Sasha had made a special trip up to San Francisco for work, and stopped by Napa to get her Mistress a gift. A case, in fact. She smiled, thinking fondly of breaking Sasha. She had a special bond with each one of her slaves. Even though they had lost all will to resist her and her desires, she loved each in turn. Tough love at times, but they worshipped her for it.

After a while she wandered back downstairs to check on Barbara’s mind. It was simmering to perfection. Before she left, she would offer Christine a very valuable gift.

*****

Maria knocked timidly on the door. Barbara had said not to ring the bell. She nearly dashed back to her car, terrified of facing this woman who would explore a side of Maria that she had never let out with any of her intimate partners before. It was probably why none of them could truly satisfy her, and why in the end she had stopped satisfying them. She lost her chance to run as all of this sped through her mind; the door had opened. Before her stood a tall blonde, red silk falling off her shoulders and lace-topped stockings caressing her legs down to spiked patent leather heels.

“Hi, Maria. I’m so glad you chose to come. Barbara has told me so much about you. Please come in.” Christine gestured inside. She waited patiently as Maria looked at her, then at the hallway, then back at her timidly before finally getting over her nerves and walking inside.

“This way.” Christine strode before her, taking charge immediately. Maria followed her into the living room. “Sit.” Christine gestured to a plush couch in deep blue velvet. The room was scented with perfume and dimly lit. Rich, cool colors lent a sense of heaviness and lethargy to the quiet, subtle New Age thrumming in the background. Maria was a little worried she might be lulled to sleep.

“I want to start by getting to know why you are here and what you are looking for in a Domme.” Christine said in deep, rich tones. “Just relax and let yourself open up to me. Remember that you are the sub and that the sub controls the scene. We will only do what you want. So please relax, let your tension and concerns wash away. Open up and tell me why you are here.”

Maria giggle nervously and stared hard at her feet. She took a few deep breaths, making herself calm down. ‘I’m in control here. This is what I want.’ “I’m… well, I’m here to explore a few fantasies I have.” She grinned sheepishly. “I’ve never told anyone about them, well, until Barb started talking about her… needs, and, uh, how she fulfilled them.” She glanced up at Christine and wilted under the intense stare. She quickly looked back down and started tapping her feet together.

“Please, Maria, relax. You’re safe here. I want to listen, to help you explore this side of you. Barbara mentioned this might not be easy for you to do.” Christine lightened her expression. “I wont judge or laugh or belittle you. Your happiness is all I care about. Your needs are what I’m here to fulfill. Let me in and I will tread softly through your mind, guiding it to the greatest heights of pleasure I can. But I can only be your guide if you let me, if you relax, open up to me and let me see your innermost desires.”

Maria was looking at Christine now, surprised and relieved. She sighed and felt a ashamed of her reluctance to tell Christine about those little daydreams that always tingled her most intimate areas and featured in her longer showers and late-night fantasies. Excitement at telling a virtual stranger about these secrets played across her nether regions.

She had a feeling that if she didn’t start now, she’d just get up and walk out. She couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t let herself do that.

“Well, ever since I can remember, I wanted someone to… punish me. Use me, abuse me, hurt me.” she stammered. Now that the valve had open, it all came flowing out. “I… When I fantasize, I think of strong men and women tying me up and spanking me hard, using whips and clamps and wax and… and… I don’t even know. I think of them using my pussy and ass as they see fit, and grabbing my nipples and twisting and pulling, and shoving my face into their cunts and onto their cocks and making me suck and lick…They treat me like dirt. I don’t always even know who they are. Sometimes I even… even… sometimes…” She started sputtering, having trouble with the last piece of the puzzle, the one thing that was, occasionally, the only thing that worked.

“Relax, Maria, and open up for me. Let it flow out of you.”

“I see my dad, just like he… he did… with the belt…” Maria felt the sobs coming up again, the burning tears tracking down her cheeks. The shame boiled through her, leaving her weak and bent over. She wanted to hide again, like she used to in school, like she still did at work and with friends and especially from those close to her. She’d thought she was beyond it, but this desire was rooted in her painful past, however much she hated it. She hugged herself and started rocking.

She didn’t realize Christine had come over. She felt strong arms enfold her, holding her close against a hard, warm body, gently comforting her. She leaned in, still crying. “It’s ok, Maria. Let it out. Thank you for opening up and letting me in. I’m honored. I know it was difficult and brought up painful memories, but I know that we can work together now and I can help you release and overcome those inner demons that have haunted you for so long. You will find pleasure and gratification in the pain and punishment I provide. You will heal, become whole. Let me take you on the path to redemption and bliss.”

Maria kept sobbing, unable to stop the maelstrom inside that had been building behind the inner walls of her psyche for so long. It burst out and consumed her, racking her body with long suppressed emotional scars and hidden pain. This release was beyond any of her experiences with psychologists; it was more intimate and intensely personal. She knew now that Christine, this Domme, could help her confront her past and shove her through it, experiencing the immense agony and suffering she craved, the punishment she felt she deserved, emerging on the other side a new person who had chained her demons.

Christine led them downstairs. The basement was cold and dark. The dim lights only served to heighten Maria’s delicious fear of the apparatus arrayed around the room. Impersonal torture devices whispered to her tingling intimate places, flinging the butterflies off their perches to flutter around her belly. She tore her gaze away and looked at Christine.

“These are just a few of the things that I will use on you, Maria. From what you told me, I know that you need someone that will take you further down the path to submission than you’ve gone before. You will learn to yearn for punishment so you can yield control to someone more powerful.” Christine patted a padded table. “Sit.”

Maria had to jump to get onto the tall surface. She had questions, but her voice died in her throat as she looked up into those eyes.

“I have a few things that I demand of all my new slaves.” Maria flinched at the new word, a little trepidatious at being called a slave. Her pussy thought differently though, reacting with a slick thigh-clenching tremble. “You must know that I am the one that owns you, that will tame you, that will teach you obedience.” Christine moved in front of Maria, staring deeply into her eyes. “I own you now.”

Maria stared back. She tried to deny it, but her cunt told her what she wanted. Her deep subconscious agreed with her traitorous pussy. “You own me.”

“You need to let your concerns go and surrender to me.”

Maria sighed, trying to release some of her tension. It didn’t work. She had virgin jitters.

“Relax, Maria. You are safe here. You can let yourself go and feel the profound release, the intense relief of finally living out the fantasies you’ve bottled up for so long. You know that granting me control will liberate you. Let me in, submit your will to me and become free!”

Maria took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Over her fear was an excited certainty that she would finally have the kind of raw, painful, hedonistic sex she craved. The hidden desires that left her damaged and scarred would play out in this basement. After, she could face them and hopefully start healing the wounds in her head. She wanted this *desperately*. “I’ll… I’ll do it. Anything you ask.”

Christine stared hard, then looked her up and down. “Let’s start.” She grabbed a riding crop. “Strip.”

Maria was surprised by the sudden change, but she kicked off her shoes and slipped off the table to unbutton her jeans. The whip on her belly surprised her even more.

“Did I say you could get off the table? Sit! Strip!”

Maria hopped back up. She lay back to finish with her jeans, pushing them off and catching her socks in her thumbs along the way. She sat up, pulled her blouse over her head, undid her bra, slipped out of it and pulled down her panties. Her arousal was obvious, leaking down her thighs and pointing off her chest.

“Lay down and spread out.” Christine roughly helped her, tying her arms and legs down. “Now we shall begin.” She slid the crop along the prone woman’s torso, first up between her breasts then down to her crotch. “Why are you here?”

Maria didn’t know how to answer. She stuttered, then felt more pain than she had in her life. It blossomed between her legs and spread like fire to her toes and up her chest. She cried out. “Answer.” More pain. She jibbered. Her mind sped, desperately trying to formulate something. “Answer.”

“I wanted to be here.”

“Wrong.”

She cried out this time before the whip even hit. “I need punishment!”

“Wrong.”

Her thoughts raced around, not understanding. Randomly one slipped to her mouth and out. “I’m a slave!”

“Right.” A soothing hand gently caressed her enflamed and sore crotch, making Maria flinch in burning pain and over-sensitive pleasure. She bucked and jerked. The hand pulled away.

“You need to understand this in your soul. You must be taught.” Christine slid a monitor on an arm so that it forced Maria to strain to look above her. “Watch.” Christine slipped earbuds into the new slave’s ears. “Listen.” She flicked a switch. “Learn.”

Soft music played with gentle whispers that matched the swirling, colorful patterns on the screen. As the intense fire from her clit died down, Maria found herself floating on an endorphin high that easily slipped into the vortex on the monitor. She didn’t notice when the dildo pushed past her inflamed lips and started a gentle undertone to the words the music carried into her mind. She began to quietly intone the lesson.

*****

“Rachel. You’re home.” Christine came up the stairs and saw her daughter watching T.V. in the living room. “I thought you were supposed to be studying with Brad.”

“He’s gotten boring, so I’m catchin’ up.” She gestured at the T.V. without looking at her mom. Someone’s dancing was being criticized on the T.V. and that was obviously very important, even if it was TiVo’d. Pausing wasn’t allowed.

“I have a fresh recruit downstairs. Did you want to play?”

“No, Ava is stopping by later to go over our social studies presentation.” Rachel grimaced. “It’s about our ‘Social Duties’ and how they affect our behavior.”

“Ava who?” Christine hadn’t heard the name before.

“Ava Gonzales. A girl from class.” Rachel sighed. It was obvious she wasn’t happy with the pairing.

“Oh? Well, I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Christine smiled at her daughter. Seniors never worked hard. Rachel was already accepted to Berkeley. It was difficult to be motivated when nothing was riding on it. Briana had been the same way before she went to USC. “You’ll think of something to make the situation more to your liking. Maybe make her dance for you, since you seem so enthralled.” Rachel smirked as Christine stepped into the kitchen to start dinner.

*****

The next morning, before Christine had breakfast on the table, Rachel came running downstairs and headed for the door. “Wait just a second, young lady!” Christine’s voice brought her to a halt. “Come back here and eat.”

“Aw, mom, I’ve gotta…” Rachel started.

“No.” Christine pointed at a chair at the kitchen table. “Sit.” Rachel pouted and huffed but did what her mother asked. She crossed her arms and slid down the chair, shoulders almost even with plate her mom had set. “Eat your breakfast.” Eggs and bacon, toast, melon slices and juice. Typical over-achieving supermom breakfast. It’d been happening since the divorce. Rachel sighed and dug in.

“Now, where were you going in such a hurry?” Christine sat next to her daughter and served herself.

“School.”

“How was the study session last night? Ava as bad as you thought?”

“Worse. She kept playing this crappy music and wouldn’t turn it off and I just couldn’t get her to do anything!” Rachel huffed again, then slammed down some eggs. “I hate her.”

“Well, dear, keep working on her and you’ll have her eating out of your hand in no time.” Christine smiled. “I know you. You’re stronger than she is. She’ll break, just like all of them do.”