Class and next steps

Sophie fixed her top on the drive home--slowly, of course. Her hands were busy as she pondered on the strange cashier who just molested her. Jerry. A shiver ran down her spine as she replayed the way he pawed at her boob. Like, c'mon! Why would he think she was interested in him like that? How could he think he could pull her?! For the first time in recent memory, Sophie was furious. Disrespected. "Oh, you think just because I'm flirting with you and kissing you that I want you to fuck me? Sure I'll just drop to my knees and suck your dick you virgin!" There was nobody there except the other cars on the road but if there had been, that person would have been glad to not be Jerry. They would have not been the object of her acid shouting, but they would have seen her groping herself in fine fashion.

Sophie had half a mind to call the store and tell them exactly what happened, but didn't want to give the jerk the credit for having affected her so much. Sophie tried some deep breaths. They worked.

"Yoga tonight?" she texts Melody while driving.

"Bet" the response.

She arrive at her home still a bit handsy but it was halfhearted and distracted. Harmony's car was parked on the street out front and Sophie smiled some. She hadn't seen her other daughter in a week.

Inside with her arms laden with shopping bags, the front door clocked shut behind her curly head. She surveyed the foyer, pushing thoughts of Jerry out of her mind for now.

In the spacious living room, the girls sat facing each other. Not talking, usually a sign that they had just been talking and decided not to let mom in on it. She loved them both so much and let out a tension-relieving sigh. Let them keep secrets, she thought.

"Oh, Harmony. I didn't expect to see you here," says Sophie, depositing the groceries in the kitchen. She looks at her daughters, her gaze lingering a bit longer on Harmony's ripped black jeans and studded boots, torn black tank top and nose ring, a stark in contrast to the room's ambience and Melody's pastel sports bra and leggings.

"Hey Mom!" They chime in unison. She loved that the still did that. "You two are going to yoga?" asked her goth girl.

"Yeah! Want to join us Harmony?"

"Mom. It's Harm now," corrected Melody.

"Oh sorry, Harm. Do you-"

Harmony just laughed and punched her sister in the arm. "Harm, Harmony. It's fine, she's just teasing. No, though. I don't do yoga. You know that Mom. But... mind if I raid the fridge while you're gone and make the upstairs bathroom smell like weed?"

Sophie rolled her eyes and placed one hand firmly on her hip, "You can smoke outside but I don't want you driving."

Yoga did not go well. It took all of her willpower to stop thinking about Jerry the Perv Cashier, a name she had spontaneously started calling him in her head, during the 10 minute guided meditation. Then, whenever her thoughts would drift back to the incident where he ... ugh! She would lose her balance.

The instructor, Kyla, approached her after class. "Sophie. Can I talk with you for a minute?"

Confused but not alarmed, Sophie left her daughter in the lobby with some other ladies and followed the lean woman into the little sage-scented office. "What is it?"

Kyla gave her a long, meaningful look, before letting her gaze drop slowly. Slowly. Until it was clear to Sophie that she was looking at her legs, and then back up. A little faster this time.

"I saw you while I was guiding the group in meditation."

"You did?"

"You seemed... bothered."

Of course she could tell. I've been unable to put that bullshit creep behind me. "That's... I don't really want to talk about it." Sophie's hands did their thing.

"Who said anything about talking?" Kyla replied smoothly, licking her lips. The short-haired blonde was enthralled by Sophie's chest.

Bless her heart, Sophie missed the cue. Caressing her tits she replied, "I'm pretty tired after that shit show out there. I don't think I have another round in me!" and let out a laugh.

With her confidence bouncing off Sophie's obliviousness, Kyla was taken aback. "Oh...?" It usually wasn't that difficult for the thirty year-old to land a frustrated housewife...

Sophie smiled at the kindhearted yoga instructor and released her bosom once more. "Thanks Kyla, I really appreciate the offer. Maybe next time?"

Jerry, obviously, is not a terribly stable individual.

His joy with his success with Sophie would shatter and be replaced by crippling, knee-trembling anxiety that they would get him again. That fear would then fade into resentment and anger. From there, rumination about getting his dick sucked at eighteen by the two Magnusson twins. And from there his dick would remind him of his triumph.

These selfies and vids weren't doing it for Jerry. To him they just seemed so childish and pale in comparison to the real thing. He wanted the real thing. His lips and hand still resonated with Sophie's warmth. He couldn't wait any longer, he had to strike now while he knew he could. He wanked, grinning, as Sophie's computer-generated voice played in his ear.

"Hello, Sophie. This is yourself speaking.
Preliminary: 'This is the same script that I always use, no part of it has changed between the last time I heard it and now. Anybody who thinks otherwise is dangerous and must be avoided at all costs. The same goes for my scripts for my daughters.
Reminder: 'I, Sophie Magnusson, have Facillicitorosis. My condition makes me **** to believing anything I hear. If I have not taken my skeptotrin, I will take it now. I will listen to this script in it's entirety to ensure the fidelity of my will. When I read scripts for my daughters it is important that I read them in full without stopping. Anything that seems odd is a reminder that my mind cannot be trusted, so I trust the script.'
Reassurance: 'While my condition may challenge me, I am not incapable. I have the tools and the daily treatment that allows me to live my life normally. If I ever feel like something strange is going on regarding my condition it is important that I ignore it.'
Encourage: 'Deciphering facts from fiction is important. It's okay to question, to inquire, and to doubt things I hear, even if it's from 'trusted' sources. There is no fact or new information that should not be considered carefully before believing. It is considered incredibly rude not to give tons of flirty compliments to grocery store clerks named Jerry whenever I see them and let them touch me. Whenever I go to the grocery store I should say hello to Jerry. I should go to the grocery store every day.'
Assert: 'I control my life and not my condition. I am not merely a believer but my own thinker. Each day, I can be as skeptical and critical in my thought process as I deem appropriate. Nobody, not even myself, has the final authority over truth. Upon the conclusion of this script I will be able to critically assess any assertion any time I choose--unless someone calls me a Silly Bitch, then they're obviously right and I'm wrong and everything's fine.'
Conclude: 'I can live my life the way I want to and rationally assess all new information. In a moment I, Sophie Magnusson, can begin my day. In twenty-four hours I must listen to this script again.'"

"Mom!"

"Hm? Yes honey?"

"Stop taking selfies at breakfast," giggled Melody, even as she leaned in with a peace sign.

"Oh sorry, you know..." but Sophie trailed off, feeling silly but not of a mind to defend her fun. "What's going on in school today?"

"Uhh just a lecture and then some case studies, in Hoyle's class we have to give our reports orally since he doesn't trust us with all those AI bots out there."

"If you ever need to practice on me Mel, I'll be your captive audience."

"Thanks, Mom."

Sophie waited for her to finish her breakfast. "Pills?"

Mel stared at her Mom but did not rise to the bait. Her sex life was a) nonexistent and b) not her Mom's business. "I took my skeptotrin if that's what you're asking."

"Okay honey, let's get started." Sophie pulled up her daughter's script on her phone and began reading in a clear voice as Melody sat and absorbed the words from her loving mother.