Maids
by Pan
Chapter 22: Motherly Concern II
“Yoo hoo! Cindy!”
Cindy’s eyes widened, and her face turned beet-red. That…it couldn’t be…
Surely…
Yup. It was.
“Mom?”
Sitting in a booth by the window was her mother, waving excitedly. She was wearing a new blue dress—she must have gone shopping again. The top showed off more cleavage than Cindy had even realized her mother had. And was that a new pair of boots?
And, of course, her collar.
It had taken Cindy a few days to realize: her mother didn’t know.
Unlike Cindy and her friends, she genuinely thought it was all her idea. Her new clothes, the pancakes, her change in attitude. She hadn’t even seemed to question where the thoughts were coming from.
She hadn’t linked them to the collar.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“Alex told me that you worked here—I had no idea!”
To her absolute horror, a wave of pleasure hit Cindy, as her mother’s eyes ran up and down her daughter’s body.
“God…”
Her former austerity now completely gone, Cindy’s mother reached out and gently touched her side.
Cindy desperately wished that the feeling didn’t turn her on so much.
“I can’t believe it. My own daughter.”
The Hooter’s waitress squinted slightly, trying to read her mother’s tone. Was that…approval? Disgust?
Her mother spoke so softly, Cindy could barely hear her.
“…what a slut.”
The teenage girl’s cheeks burned red as her mother sneered at her daughter. Judging her.
Accurately.
She was dressed like a slut. As often as she could get a shift (which was now basically every time her manager was in), she would dress up like a slut, and parade herself for men’s approval.
“What can I get you, Mom?”
Her mother was looking around the room, admiring the other women. Her hand suddenly shot up to her own neck; as soon as her fingers reached the soft black leather of her collar, she relaxed, and gripped it lightly.
“I can finally see why all you girls were wearing these,” she mentioned. “It’s cute, isn’t it?”
“It sure is, Mom.”
“Maybe…”
Cindy’s eyes narrowed as her mother’s voice took on a soft, dreamy quality.
“Maybe you should get some for the other girls here. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Cindy hesitated. What was she was saying? Before she could respond, her mother snapped back to attention, her voice strong and clear.
“What happened to yours, darling?”
“I think I lost it, Mom.”
“Of course you did.”
She didn’t say the word ‘worthless’, but it was implied in her tone.
“Sorry, Mom.”
“Cindy.”
A chill ran down Cindy’s spine as she realized that they weren’t alone.
“Well well,” her manager said softly, a voice that haunted her dreams and woke her up soaking wet. “I didn’t realize you had a sister.”
Cindy’s mother laughed at that, longer and louder than she should have. She accepted a kiss on the hand from her daughter’s manager, and flirted back.
“You must be furious at my daughter,” her mother joked after a few minutes of conversation. Again, ‘worthless’ was implied but not spoken. “Spending so much time on just one table!”
“Don’t worry,” her manager said with an easy smile. “I’ll be sure to punish her later.”
Cindy wondered if her mother had noticed that her manager’s hand hadn’t left her ass for the entire conversation.
Or whether, if she had, she would have cared.
After the visit from Hooters, her mother’s disapproval returned. Unlike her old glances of disgust, however, now her mother would glare at her when Cindy’s outfits weren’t revealing enough.
One morning, Cindy had slumped downstairs in a sweatshirt and a pair of ill-fitting jeans.
“Really, Cindy,” she said, her voice thick with disappointment. “Why hide it?”
“Uh…what?”
“It’s not enough that you’ve lost your collar, but now you’re trying to mask who you really are. What you really are.”
Cindy stood silently as her mother continued, getting more frantic by the word.
“You don’t deserve to hide your skin. You don’t deserve to hide your body from the world—that’s for good girls. That’s for decent, respectful girls. Not for you. You’re nothing but a…but a…”
Her mother took a deep breath, and said the word with…reverence, almost.
“Slut.”
“Yes, mother.”
“You’re nothing but a dirty little slut, are you?”
“No, mother.”
“Little slut,” her mother muttered, her eyes flashing. “Dirty, filthy little slut. Say it.”
“Mom…”
“Say it.”
“I’m a slut,” Cindy repeated, horrified at the words coming out of her mouth.
They were true, of course, but she’d never said them.
“Again.”
“I’m a slut. I’m a dirty little slut”
Her mother sat back, satisfied, a sort of glow radiating from her.
“Go upstairs and change, this instant.”
“Mom…”
“Now!” her mother snapped, with such authority in her voice that Cindy was halfway up the stairs before she even realized what she was doing.
When she got back to her room, she closed her door and—for the first time in a long time—lay down on the bed and began touching herself.
There was just something so hot about being ordered around…about being told what to do, what to wear.
About being told that she was a slut.
As she came, she finally admitted it to herself: she was a natural submissive. She wasn’t even wearing the collar any more, she’d never been attracted to her mother before, but…
As soon as she was given a command, it sent sparks straight to her pussy.
Over the next few weeks, Cindy’s relationship with her mother continued to intensify. If she did anything that her mother didn’t approve of, she’d be snapped at, told off…
…and, before long, spanked.