Something goes a little wrong there.

You arrive home feeling relaxed, like a big weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You're so glad Morgan is helping you understand these feelings you've been having. Things don't seem as scary anymore. You head to the kitchen and start retrieving ingredients and cookware. You get a text from your mother letting you know they're on their way while chopping up some vegetables. You finish cooking with a little time to spare before you hear the front door opening and closing and the sound of your mother chuckling happily. You slowly peak your head around the corner and see them, Chris is wrapping your mother in a tight embrace, his lips pressed to hers. She is leaning against him as he holds her in his muscle-bound arms. He notices you and breaks the kiss.

"Hey there Quinn." He says with a twisted smile. You mother turns her head and looks at you, smirking alongside him before extricating herself from his embrace and walking toward you with outstretched arms. You go to meet her and she pulls your face deep into her cleavage as she clutches you tightly. The wonderful scent of her perfume fills your nostrils.

"There's my good boy with dinner all ready for his mommy and her boyfriend." She plants a kiss on your head. "Did you have a good day sweetie?" Your mother coos as she smothers you with her breasts.

"Y-yes mommy." You reply, muffled by her chest. She releases you and you smile up at her before heading back into the kitchen to set the table. Her and Chris sit down next to one another and chat while your mother's hand wanders up and down his thigh. You try not to look at them as you bring the food over.

"Mmm, looks delicious, honey!" Your mother says as you place the food in front of her. Chris nods as you give him his plate and sit down to eat with them. You spend an awkward evening as Chris and your mother sit across from you laughing and flirting and getting handsy under the table. You blush at your mother's vulgarities but are also glad to see her having so much fun. You just wish it wasn't him making her feel this way. Your discomfort builds over the course of the dinner. You know Chris is different now, like Morgan and your mother have told you, but something about him still makes your stomach turn.

You eye him from across the table while you eat. The way him and your mother talk so casually with one another continuing to infuriate you. You feel highly conflicted, you want your mother to be happy and enjoy herself. You feel yourself compelled to help her out in any way you can including being nice for her boyfriend, but you just can't bring yourself to forgive, not after all he's done to you. Your head begins to throb as you stew in the complicated mix of jealousy, implanted servility, and rage at seeing him in your house. Finally dinner concludes and your mother goes to slip into something more comfortable leaving you to gather up the dishes, alone with Chris. You try not to make eye contact as you take the plates and silverware to the sink and begin to rinse them off for the dishwasher. Your body tenses and your breath catches in your throat when you feel Chris behind you. He places two hands on your shoulders.

"Thank you so much for dinner Quinn. It was delicious." His hands begin to massage your shoulders.

"Th-thank you." You manage to say in response. His touch makes you want to vomit but feels so nice on your sore shoulders. You gasp again as you feel Chris's body come closer to yours. You refocus on the task at hand, trying desperately to keep the image of Chris's bare, masculine chest out of your mind. You want to run, to scream, but you can't upset your mother.

"Aww you're welcome little guy." He says in his trademark condescending tone. You let out a squeak when you feel his hips thrust forward slightly, rubbing his crotch along your lower back and ass.

"Wh-what are you doing Chris?" He chuckles as he pulls you in closer, grinding against you.

"Just a little thank you massage, don't worry, I'm a licensed professional." He grins as he continues to work your shoulders while rubbing his crotch against you. You can feel his cock hardening in his pants. Your mind is filled with memories and fantasies of it. Your heart begins to race as you imagine the things Chris could do to you. If he decided to bend you over right now and just have you, there's nothing you could do. You wonder if your mother would care or if she is too far gone.

"Th-thank you, I think that's enough." You say, trying to extricate yourself from this horrifying situation in the most diplomatic way possible. Chris doesn't budge.

"Just relax little guy, be done in just a moment." He replies as he continues to massage your shoulders, now openly dry humping your ass. You feel aroused by his attention, by his strong arms holding you tight. You squeal again as his hands move quickly to the zipper on your jeans.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" You say in a voice you hope wasn't loud enough for your mother to hear.

"C'mon Babygirl, I just want to see your pretty panties." You freeze at the mention of the name you and Morgan arrived at in session today.

How does he know? You think before quickly realizing the answer is of course obvious. Him and Morgan have been working together this whole time. You know this. Why hasn't this been bothering you as much lately? You wonder to yourself as you begin to struggle against him. His firm hands give you no room to slip out as he pushes your pants down your thighs. You feel is crouch now rubbing against the smooth, lace covered back of your black panties. He chuckles as he gives your ass a hard slap making another girlish squeal escape your mouth. You want to be good, you need to be good for Morgan and your Mother, sissies need to serve their betters, but you want to run, to disappear forever. Your head begins to throb again this time with increased intensity, you grown as you feel his now fully swollen cock rubbing against you through your clothes. You've never felt more disgusted with yourself as you imagine tasting his rock hard member. You're profound hatred is redoubled as you realize he's put these thoughts in your mind. He's wormed his way into everyone you care about, anyone who could help you. He has you cornered and trapped and wrapped around his little finger like he always did in school where he made your life a living hell. And why? Simply because he enjoys it. His words echo up from the depths of your mind. There's just something about you Quinn. Why? Why are you cursed with this wretched fate? I want to be cute and servile. Your mind is invaded by such automatic thoughts, battling your dwindling resistance.

You sigh as you feel your body almost move on its own, pushing your panty clad ass back to receive Chris's twisted affections. You feel his hands move from your shoulders to your chest, wrapping his bulging, manly arms around you. You can smell him,. There's wine on his hot breath from dinner and he's wearing a little cologne. The smell is almost as good as your mother's perfume and you find your mouth watering as he gropes your lately sensitive chest. You feel shivers flowing up and down your body as your cocklet begins to twitch and grow erect in your panties. None of this is right. This is so fucked up. You need to get out, your head is banging as your thoughts continue to do battle with one another. You look down and see a knife sitting next to the sink.

"N-NO!" You shriek, pushing back against him with all the strength you weak, pathetic form can muster. He's surprised and loses his balance falling away from you and crashing to the floor with a thud and an angry grunt.

"What the fu-" Is all he has time to say before you grab the knife and spin around, falling on top of him. You drive it in as deep as it will go, aiming for his heart. He roars in pain and unfiltered rage. You missed his heart, merely driving the knife into the muscles in his shoulder. He grabs you by the throat with his other hand and hurls you to the side. You slide across the tile of the kitchen and come to a stop against the cabinets beneath the sink. He struggles to his feet, wincing in pain as his movements cause the blade to shift inside him. He walks quickly over to you, looking down at you with a look you're familiar with that usually meant you were in for a major beating that day. He reaches down with a massive hand, wrapping it around your throat as you freeze like a cornered animal. You struggle and try to cry out as you stare into his furious eyes. He lifts you by the neck to your feet, almost lifting you off the ground with one arm, making you **** and gag as your air is roughly cut off. His evil, wicked eyes bore into you as he grits his teeth.

"P-please... I'm s-sorry." You manage to **** out, **** for mercy. He sneers at you before speaking in a commanding, sharp tone.

"Nighty Night Sissy." As he speaks these words, you see blackness. The last thing you feel before quickly losing consciousness is the hard embrace of the tile floor as he drops your limp body to the ground.