Mom take care of things
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 16
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Suddenly, the sliding glass door slammed open with enough force to rattle the patio furniture. Adrian Phillips, fourteen years old with sandy blonde hair still damp from post-practice showering, stood panting in the doorway, his track jersey clinging to wiry shoulders. "Mom—Coach Higgins says I'm benched for regionals!" His voice cracked halfway through the sentence, fingers twisting the hem of his shorts.
"My baby benched?" Cindy's fingers paused mid-air, French tips glinting in the afternoon sun like tiny knives. The patio chair groaned as she shifted her weight, sundress riding up over thighs that could crush walnuts. Adrian's sneaker squeaked against the tile as he fidgeted, watching her face do that scary thing where her Botox didn't move but her eyes turned arctic.
She gave him an hug—one that accidentally lifted his sneakers two inches off the tiles—before setting him down with exaggerated care. "Oh, Addie-Bear," she cooed, her fingers tracing the team logo on his jersey with just enough pressure to make the fabric crease permanently. "Did Coach Higgins forget who pays for his little field trip to regionals last year?"
Adrian's throat bobbed as he watched her thumb rub absently against the patio table's wrought iron edge, leaving fingerprint dents that smoothed out seconds later. "It not far mom, I only missed two practices for—"
"Shhh, pumpkin." Cindy's smile widened as the metal chair legs groaned under her shifting weight. She plucked a rose from the centerpiece, twirling it between fingers that could bend steel rebar, watching petals drift onto Richard's abandoned paperwork. "Tell Mommy exactly what Higgins said. Word for word."
Adrian's sneakers scuffed the tiles as he recounted the conversation—how Coach cited "team policy" and "commitment issues." Cindy's nostrils flared when he mentioned the assistant coach nodding along. Her manicure tapped a staccato rhythm against her thigh, each click leaving hairline fractures in the patio table's glass surface.
"Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, Addie-Bear," Cindy murmured, rolling her shoulders until the seams of her tank top threatened to split. The patio umbrella rattled as she stretched, casting jagged shadows across Adrian’s nervous face. "Mommy’s got a special meeting with Coach Higgins tomorrow morning. Just the both of us." Her French tip tapped the glass tabletop—tiny fractures spiderwebbed outward like a warning.
---
The next morning, wearing a tiny mini strapless skinny pink dress, Cindy got to school early, really early the place was still close. She walk to one of the back doors and casually crushed the handle—the metal crumpled like aluminum foil under her grip. She slipped inside with the silence of a panther, her stilettos clicking ominously through the empty hallways. Higgins’ office door was predictably unlocked; the man was too trusting for his own good.
She didn’t sit. Instead, she perched on the edge of his desk—one leg crossed over the other, the slit in her dress revealing just enough thigh to be distracting. When Higgins walked in, coffee in hand, his keys hit the floor with a jingle. “Mrs. Phillips—the school isn’t—”
“Open yet?” Cindy finished for him, plucking a stress ball from his desk and squeezing it into a pancake between her fingers. “Mmm, funny how rules bend for some people, eh?” She tilted her head, letting her hair cascade over one shoulder like a golden noose. “Let’s talk about my Addie-Bear.”
Coach Higgins cleared his throat, eyes darting between her and the ruined stress ball. “Attendance is mandatory for—”
“Mandatory for ordinary boys,” Cindy purred, rolling the flattened rubber between her palms like dough. “But my Adrian? He’s special.” The fluorescent light caught the edge of her diamond tennis bracelet as she leaned forward—just enough to make Higgins’ grip on his coffee cup tighten.
Outside, a janitor’s cart rattled past the office window. Cindy didn’t blink. “See, here’s the thing,” she murmured, plucking Higgins’ framed “Coach of the Year” photo off the shelf. The glass cracked audibly under her thumb. “Addie-Bear’s college scouts are visiting next week. And you—” she tilted the frame until his reflection warped in the broken pane, “—you wouldn’t *dream* of benching my champion over some… clerical oversight.”
She put one long feminine finger on the well and prass down—slowly at first, then with growing pressure. The granite cracked like thin ice beneath her fingertip, fissures spiderwebbing outward with soft, ominous pops. Higgins' coffee cup trembled in his grip, dark liquid sloshing over the rim onto his khakis.
"Oh, oopsie," Cindy murmured, watching the cracks spread. She dragged her nail lazily through the damage, carving a jagged line toward his lap. "Must be faulty material. Shoddy workmanship. Wouldn't want... structural weaknesses... getting reported to the school board." Her gaze flicked up to his, blue eyes glinting like polished steel.
Higgins' throat worked silently. He clutched his ruined desk like a life raft, knuckles bleaching white. Cindy's smile widened as she leaned closer, letting him smell her vanilla-laced breath. "Now," she whispered, tapping the shattered granite, "let's discuss Adrian's revised training schedule."
---
In the afternoon, Cindy sat in her office, a room that was unused and she had ordered the cleaning crew to tidy it up like the office of some government official or successful businessman. She was comfortable in a large executive bag that was especially suited to her new body size. A message from Adrian appeared on her phone, and she smiled when she saw that Adrian had been reinstated on the team and would be participating in the upcoming state championship. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms overhead, the fabric of her blouse straining against her biceps. The chair creaked ominously, but held—for now.
She looks out a wide window at the neighborhood, deciding it's time to increase her influence. The elections are approaching for the HOA board—her chance to take direct control. Her fingers tap against the desk, leaving faint dents in the mahogany before the wood fibers slowly knit back together. A sharp knock at the door interrupts her scheming—Maria, the housekeeper, stands there trembling slightly with a tray of coffee and cookies. "Mrs. Phillips, your afternoon snack—"
Cindy doesn't turn her head, just extends one arm toward Maria with an expectant flick of her wrist. The tray rattles as Maria places it in her grip. The coffee cup trembles violently when Cindy lifts it—then shatters in her palm from sheer pressure. She sighs, licking hot espresso off her knuckles while Maria scrambles backward. "Honestly, Maria. Flimsy dishware? Again?" She crushes the remaining shards into fine powder between her fingertips, letting it rain onto the tray like black snow. "Use the good china tomorrow. Or don't bother coming back."
Soon everyone in the neighborhood will like Maria, afraid of her and subordinate to her.
How Cindy plan to win the election?
1. She recruits her neighbor Karen for her campaign. She senses that Karen is sexually attracted to her and she takes advantage of this. Together they gather the worst and most evil women in the neighborhood and plot to take over the HOA board.
2. She decides to try and seduce the most influential men in the neighborhood to gain their support. She knows she can use her enhanced beauty and charm to manipulate them into voting for her.
"My baby benched?" Cindy's fingers paused mid-air, French tips glinting in the afternoon sun like tiny knives. The patio chair groaned as she shifted her weight, sundress riding up over thighs that could crush walnuts. Adrian's sneaker squeaked against the tile as he fidgeted, watching her face do that scary thing where her Botox didn't move but her eyes turned arctic.
She gave him an hug—one that accidentally lifted his sneakers two inches off the tiles—before setting him down with exaggerated care. "Oh, Addie-Bear," she cooed, her fingers tracing the team logo on his jersey with just enough pressure to make the fabric crease permanently. "Did Coach Higgins forget who pays for his little field trip to regionals last year?"
Adrian's throat bobbed as he watched her thumb rub absently against the patio table's wrought iron edge, leaving fingerprint dents that smoothed out seconds later. "It not far mom, I only missed two practices for—"
"Shhh, pumpkin." Cindy's smile widened as the metal chair legs groaned under her shifting weight. She plucked a rose from the centerpiece, twirling it between fingers that could bend steel rebar, watching petals drift onto Richard's abandoned paperwork. "Tell Mommy exactly what Higgins said. Word for word."
Adrian's sneakers scuffed the tiles as he recounted the conversation—how Coach cited "team policy" and "commitment issues." Cindy's nostrils flared when he mentioned the assistant coach nodding along. Her manicure tapped a staccato rhythm against her thigh, each click leaving hairline fractures in the patio table's glass surface.
"Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, Addie-Bear," Cindy murmured, rolling her shoulders until the seams of her tank top threatened to split. The patio umbrella rattled as she stretched, casting jagged shadows across Adrian’s nervous face. "Mommy’s got a special meeting with Coach Higgins tomorrow morning. Just the both of us." Her French tip tapped the glass tabletop—tiny fractures spiderwebbed outward like a warning.
---
The next morning, wearing a tiny mini strapless skinny pink dress, Cindy got to school early, really early the place was still close. She walk to one of the back doors and casually crushed the handle—the metal crumpled like aluminum foil under her grip. She slipped inside with the silence of a panther, her stilettos clicking ominously through the empty hallways. Higgins’ office door was predictably unlocked; the man was too trusting for his own good.
She didn’t sit. Instead, she perched on the edge of his desk—one leg crossed over the other, the slit in her dress revealing just enough thigh to be distracting. When Higgins walked in, coffee in hand, his keys hit the floor with a jingle. “Mrs. Phillips—the school isn’t—”
“Open yet?” Cindy finished for him, plucking a stress ball from his desk and squeezing it into a pancake between her fingers. “Mmm, funny how rules bend for some people, eh?” She tilted her head, letting her hair cascade over one shoulder like a golden noose. “Let’s talk about my Addie-Bear.”
Coach Higgins cleared his throat, eyes darting between her and the ruined stress ball. “Attendance is mandatory for—”
“Mandatory for ordinary boys,” Cindy purred, rolling the flattened rubber between her palms like dough. “But my Adrian? He’s special.” The fluorescent light caught the edge of her diamond tennis bracelet as she leaned forward—just enough to make Higgins’ grip on his coffee cup tighten.
Outside, a janitor’s cart rattled past the office window. Cindy didn’t blink. “See, here’s the thing,” she murmured, plucking Higgins’ framed “Coach of the Year” photo off the shelf. The glass cracked audibly under her thumb. “Addie-Bear’s college scouts are visiting next week. And you—” she tilted the frame until his reflection warped in the broken pane, “—you wouldn’t *dream* of benching my champion over some… clerical oversight.”
She put one long feminine finger on the well and prass down—slowly at first, then with growing pressure. The granite cracked like thin ice beneath her fingertip, fissures spiderwebbing outward with soft, ominous pops. Higgins' coffee cup trembled in his grip, dark liquid sloshing over the rim onto his khakis.
"Oh, oopsie," Cindy murmured, watching the cracks spread. She dragged her nail lazily through the damage, carving a jagged line toward his lap. "Must be faulty material. Shoddy workmanship. Wouldn't want... structural weaknesses... getting reported to the school board." Her gaze flicked up to his, blue eyes glinting like polished steel.
Higgins' throat worked silently. He clutched his ruined desk like a life raft, knuckles bleaching white. Cindy's smile widened as she leaned closer, letting him smell her vanilla-laced breath. "Now," she whispered, tapping the shattered granite, "let's discuss Adrian's revised training schedule."
---
In the afternoon, Cindy sat in her office, a room that was unused and she had ordered the cleaning crew to tidy it up like the office of some government official or successful businessman. She was comfortable in a large executive bag that was especially suited to her new body size. A message from Adrian appeared on her phone, and she smiled when she saw that Adrian had been reinstated on the team and would be participating in the upcoming state championship. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms overhead, the fabric of her blouse straining against her biceps. The chair creaked ominously, but held—for now.
She looks out a wide window at the neighborhood, deciding it's time to increase her influence. The elections are approaching for the HOA board—her chance to take direct control. Her fingers tap against the desk, leaving faint dents in the mahogany before the wood fibers slowly knit back together. A sharp knock at the door interrupts her scheming—Maria, the housekeeper, stands there trembling slightly with a tray of coffee and cookies. "Mrs. Phillips, your afternoon snack—"
Cindy doesn't turn her head, just extends one arm toward Maria with an expectant flick of her wrist. The tray rattles as Maria places it in her grip. The coffee cup trembles violently when Cindy lifts it—then shatters in her palm from sheer pressure. She sighs, licking hot espresso off her knuckles while Maria scrambles backward. "Honestly, Maria. Flimsy dishware? Again?" She crushes the remaining shards into fine powder between her fingertips, letting it rain onto the tray like black snow. "Use the good china tomorrow. Or don't bother coming back."
Soon everyone in the neighborhood will like Maria, afraid of her and subordinate to her.
How Cindy plan to win the election?
1. She recruits her neighbor Karen for her campaign. She senses that Karen is sexually attracted to her and she takes advantage of this. Together they gather the worst and most evil women in the neighborhood and plot to take over the HOA board.
2. She decides to try and seduce the most influential men in the neighborhood to gain their support. She knows she can use her enhanced beauty and charm to manipulate them into voting for her.
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June 13
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