You've had worse.

You wake to the chirping of your alarm fresh at 6AM. You're mother's schedule for your punishment is starting to become internalized and you no longer groan as you silence the alarm and sit up. You head to your dresser to find some clothes to wear and look down and see the room is an absolute mess. Due to your rapidly increasing chore load, you've neglected your own space. The trash is full, the floor is covered in dirty laundry, and there is a fine layer of dust everywhere. You think perhaps you should spend the free afternoon cleaning your room, as loathsome a task as it is. You put on some clean clothes and head downstairs to prepare breakfast. You decide pancakes would not go amiss and prepare some batter before heating up a griddle.

Your mother enters the kitchen a few minutes after you finish the first stack of pancakes. She looks at you with sleepy adoration and smiles and the warm scent of cooking in the air. She is wearing a black robe today fastened tight but its short length shows off her long, beautiful legs. You smile back and quickly move her plate to the table before returning to the stove to finish making your own breakfast. She walks to you and gives you a hug and a light kiss on the cheek and that enchanting scent of her perfume fills your nostrils. You tense a little with excitement as usual with her touch but also with blissful happiness at her motherly approval.

"Smells delicious honey." She says in an excited voice before sitting down to eat. "I could get used to this." She teases you as you pour her a glass of orange juice and bring her her coffee while your pancakes brown on the grill. Once you're done you move to join her at the table and begin to dig into the tower of maple deliciousness. After a while your mother speaks slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Honey? I'm so happy you're willing to see Morgan again. But you're still on punishment, and it's going to take a little while for us to rebuild our trust." You stop eating and stare down at your plate, unable to look your mother in the eye. You wished she had let you bask in the relative normality for a little while longer. She takes your hand across the table and you look up into her eyes. "I know we can get through this baby. Just listen to me and everything will be alright."

I have to listen to my mommy. Another intrusive thought invades your mind but you blink it away as your mother continues.

"You're doing such a great job keeping the house clean, I want you to keep it up today. I'm going to get ready for work, once your done cleaning you can go out and be with your friends or do whatever you like." She gives your hand a little squeeze and her gaze turns serious. "Remember I've installed cameras in my office and bedroom, if you sneak around in my things again, I'll know."

"I understand mommy, I'm really sorry for what happened-"

"For what you did, Quinton." She cuts you off gently and you clam up, blushing, unable to defend yourself against her motherly gaze. "I want to forgive you, to trust you again. But you have to show me you understand what you've done was wrong and that you're trying to change." You want to speak up, to say you're sorry for feeling the way you do about your mother but that something is still wrong with Chris's return.

Chris is a good man now. Your train of thought is cut short. You feel remorse for your violations of your mother's privacy but can't summon the urge to give your usual explanations. Finally you manage to squeak out a response.

"I'll be good mommy. I'm sorry." You look down again, withering under her gaze.

"I'm so happy to hear that sweetie. Just listen to me and everything will be alright."

I have to listen to my mommy. The thought occurs automatically but you accept it as your own. You've only ever wanted to see your mother happy and if you can do anything to make her life easier you will. You owe her so much for everything she's done for you. She departs as you gather the dishes and clean the kitchen. You go about your other tasks diligently, pausing only to accept yet another welcome embrace from your mother before she leaves for work. The scent of her perfume is stronger and it intoxicates you. You watch her walk out the door, eyes glued to her black stockings and the hint of lace you see peeking out at the bottom of her skirt. When she's gone you return to your work. You finish early and roll right into cleaning your pigsty of a room. You gather your laundry and move it to the basement to start a load.

After starting the washing machine your eyes fall upon a basket sitting at the bottom of the stairs. It looks like your mother has placed some laundry at the foot of the stairs as she usually does when she wants to do it later. You stare at the basket for a while as temptation greets you. You want to fight it, to just go back upstairs and finish dusting your room, but you just can't help yourself. You know it's wrong and dirty to feel this way but you love your mother. She's an absolute goddess and you can't think of anyone who could ever compare to her, except perhaps Molly. You recall the scent of her perfume on her bra, the silky feel of her panties on your dick, the delicate texture of the lace, you're getting hard just thinking about it. You can't resist, you move to the basket and start rifling through it as feelings of excitement and shame fight for dominance within you. Underneath a few skirts and tops you hit pay dirt. You find a bundle of delicates and pull a silky black bikini panty, slightly transparent with floral lace details along the sides, from the pile. You feel the material in your hands, and that intoxicating scent returns to your nostrils once again. You bring the panties to your nose and inhale deeply. Your cock twitches as the sweet scent of your mother overpowers your senses.

Suddenly the shame and fear win out for a moment over your excitement, you look around and listen. There's no footsteps and you don't think you heard anyone come in unexpectedly. You quickly stuff the panties in your pocket before throwing your mother's clothes back into the basket. Hopefully she won't notice they've been moved. You slink like the thief you are up to your room. You shut the door and retrieve your prize from your pocket, feeling guilty. You just told your mother this morning that this would never happen again, but you're so horny, you need to experience her scent once more. You dive into the panties and surrender to your perversion. You fish your dick out and begin stroking wildly as you huff your mother's essence from the smooth fabric. You cum quickly and with intensity, feeling your knees buckle slightly beneath you. You're so caught up in the enchanting scent that you just cum on the freely on the floor. You bask in the afterglow breathing deeply into your mother's dirty panties. After a moment your mind returns to you and you throw them away in horror.

What have I done? Already I've broken my promise. You think looking at the cum stain on your floor. You look to your mother's panties where they fell on your bed. You wonder what you should do with them. You probably ought to put them back but as you cover yourself again and step over to the bed, you realize you just can't be without that smell. It's the closest you'll ever get to the woman you love and you don't know if you'll get many chances like this one. Your mother usually keeps her laundry in her room which she now keeps locked. You pick up the illicit garment and fiddle with the lacey details as you think about your mother's beautiful body, and how her voluptuous ass must look in their silky confines. You hide them under your mattress like a stolen playboy. A chirp from your phone makes you jump and pulls you out of your elicit obsessions. It's Molly.

Molly: Hey Quinn! How's it going? Heard from your mom you might be feeling down so I thought I'd invite you out for coffee, just us.

Your heart soars. You cherish the rare moments alone with Molly, probably because you secretly hope some sparks might fly between you. You quickly text that you need to finish up some cleaning but that you'll be done in an hour. She replies just as promptly to tell you she'll see you then at the usual place. You quickly clean the cum from your floor and finish tidying your room. After a shower and a change of clothes you head down to Lincoln's. As you walk through the door you spot Molly waiving from your usual corner table. When you approach you see she's changed further still since you last saw her. She's still wearing her red hair in a sexy, short pixie but now she's shaved a side for an extra sexy look. Her nose is pierced with a silver ring and she's wearing vibrant, almost aggressive makeup. She stands and pulls you in for a hug.

"Heeeey Quinn! How was the rest of your weekend?" She seems bubbly and excited as ever to see you.

"It was alright." You reply, reluctantly breaking the hug. You look down and see Molly is rocking fishnets beneath a short, punky skirt. She wears a striped tank top beneath a stylish leather jacket that looks new and you're pretty sure you've never seen it before. She practically jumps with excitement as she addresses you again.

"I got a tattoo!" She squeals in delight.

"What?" You reply, a little incredulous. Molly never talked much about tattoos or anything like that and now here she is with a nose ring and a new tattoo. You worry Chris must have something to do with this.

"Isn't it fuckin badass?" She says pulling her leather jacket down to reveal her shoulder. You see a colorful floral design that gracefully accommodates the uneven surface of her body. She turns and models the tattoo a little bit, looking back at you know with a sensual pose. Your heart begins to beat faster as you admire her form. She breaks the moment and squeals once more. "I love it! I got it before we last talked but it was still healing up, it looked so gross lol." She sits down and you follow suit, you can feel your half-hard dick pressing against your pants as you do so.

"It's really cool Molly, I never knew you were into that stuff." You say in a questioning tone.

"Yeah well I guess I'm just finding myself a little. We're eighteen now, no more high school, time to go a little nuts." She smiles suggestively. "Speaking of going a little nuts..." You can't help but laugh.

"No! That can't be your segway into asking me how therapy went, that's fucked up." You hold your hand over your mouth to stifle the noise of your laughter lest it bother other guests.

"Hey just trying to keep it light." She gives you a playful little punch in the shoulder. "I saw your mom today getting lunch in town and she said you were feeling down."

"I don't know, I'm just worried I guess. About Chris..."

Chris is a good man now. You drift off as the intrusion makes you lose focus on what you were about to say.

"I get it." Molly says, smiling while reaching for your hand. "You're worried about how Chris made you feel in those videos." You're a little stunned and she continues before you can speak again. "We're growing up Quinn, we're discovering new things. And it must be crazy getting the hots for the guy dating your mom." She grins at you cheekily.

"What?! No! I... Don't you remember what Chris used to do to me and Edgar?" Molly grabs your wrist tightly with her other hand. Her grip is strong and you want to pull away at the sudden pain you feel as her nails dig into your flesh slightly. You wince but as your gaze returns to her eyes, you see they are staring blankly through you. Her mouth opens and she begins to speak in a monotone. Somehow you can't look away, you find your gaze drawn deeply into the empty green of her eyes as your jaw hangs slack.

"Chris is a good man now." She says. You're staring blankly back at her now. Your mind drawn down into the deep, black pit of her voided retinas. You feel her words echo in your mind, back and forth, never diminishing, until it seems a thousand voices are addressing you from every direction. She blinks, breaking the spell. Your mind clears, blurring your memory as it does. She continues speaking as if nothing had happened, her grip on your wrist loosened to a comforting embrace. "I know he used to mess with you but that was a long time ago. He's so much older and wiser now, yah know? He really worked on himself when he was in there."

"But Molly I-" You try to keep a hold on your memory of this strange occurrence, to make sense of what's happening to you, but you find yourself forgetting what the two of you were talking about leading up to this praise of Chris. "What were we talking about?" You ask dumbly.

"How lucky your mom is! Chris is so hot right?"

"Molly?!"

"C'mon it's just us, I already know. Why are you being all weird about it?"

"Weird about what?" You ask, flabbergasted. She rolls her eyes.

"How you got a stiffy watching Chris workout, Quinn." Your eyes go wide as you quickly motion for her to quiet down. She shrugs in response to your embarrassment. "Look dude, I get you're shy and still trying to figure everything out. If you won't talk to me, your best friend, at least talk to this doctor you're seeing again. Whatsername? Megan?"

"Morgan." You reply.

"Yeah at least talk about it with Morgan. You can't hide from stuff like this Quinn. It's unhealthy. You need to be who you are." You sigh and sit back in your seat. "I don't blame you by the way. Chris is fuckin so hot, oh my gawd those muscles! He looks like he could break me in half." She giggles as you throw her a disapproving look.

"Can we change the subject, please?"

"Fine! Fine. Just think about what I said ok?" You nod and the two of you manage to spend the rest of your time together without anymore talk of Chris or your suspicions. You forget for a moment all about it and just enjoy being with Molly. She provides you with a desperately needed distraction from your troubles, even if you still suspect she's been compromised. You realize you've been forgetting the clock and you need to head home to start dinner for mom. Molly gives you another comforting embrace before you go. You get a pleasant whiff of her hair before she pulls away. You turn to leave and give a wave from the door as you look back one last time.

On the walk back home, you pour through your memory of the last few hours but can find nothing to explain the uneasy feelings in your gut. You think about Molly and her new fashion sense. You think she must be being influenced, but you still don't know how. Yet you can't simply turn off your feelings for her. You agree with her you need to speak to Morgan, but not about your supposedly homoerotic urges. You need to tell her about this afternoon, about Molly's odd behavior, the piercings, the tattoo. It's just further proof of your accusations against Chris, you're certain she'll see if you just get her all the facts. You know she can help you if you trust her.

I must trust Morgan. You think as you open the door and step into the entryway. Luckily, you beat your mother home so you get started on dinner. You finish with two minutes to spare and have the table all set and ready when you hear your mother's car pull in. You smile when you see her come in, pushing away any thoughts of the ill-gotten treasure hiding under your mattress. She greets you with a smile.

"Something smells good!" She walks up to you in the arch between the kitchen and entryway and wraps you in a warm hug. Any suspicion that she somehow knows about your theft melts away.

"Hey mom." You say, your face a little smothered by the embrace. She releases you with a peck on the cheek and enters the kitchen. You both sit down and enjoy some idle chit chat over dinner. She praises your work on the house, and admitted she checked the cameras but was glad to see you didn't go near her private rooms. You blush a little as you thank her, as much from guilt as from the embarrassing implications of her statements. But it seems your mother is none the wiser for now. She finishes and retires to the living room to watch TV while you clean up the kitchen. Once you're done you kiss her goodnight before ascending the stairs. She reminds you on your way up that she'll leave you some money for a car to bring you to Morgan's tomorrow and you yell in assent before continuing up the stairs.

When you're back in your room, you go straight for the panties, you hold them to your face and inhale deeply. The scent is paradoxically comforting to you somehow, in addition to driving you mad with lust. You put them back in their hiding place before laying down to surf the web on your phone. You keep looking around for information about mind control. There's several forums dedicated to the topic but it's mostly weird fetish stuff. You post to a few wondering if anyone knows of any real life mind control techniques, but most of them shut down your threads before anyone can reply. You give up and plug your phone in before rolling over into a peaceful sleep. You anticipate a productive session with Morgan at least tomorrow, maybe she'll know where to look.