A is for App
by Pan
Chapter 3
Finn stared at the exam paper in front of him.
It had been a week since he’d last opened the app. In fact, he’d done all he could to not think about it. After a night of uncomfortable dreams featuring his mother in scantily-clad outfits, he’d decided that maybe he didn’t want to find out what was on the next level.
He knew his mother was attractive, of course. It was one of the struggles of being a teenage boy: Unless your mother looks exactly like the old man from Up, every guy in your grade will let you know exactly how hot she is. And what they’d do to her, given half a chance.
He didn’t get it nearly as bad as Terrance did, thank god. His best friend’s mother was a blonde bombshell, with curves that made most women look like underfed lampposts.
But there was a difference between knowing, in the abstract, that your mother was attractive… and noticing that your mother was attractive. The next morning, as he’d enjoyed the remains of the previous night’s feast, Finn had avoided looking at his mother. She hadn’t seemed to notice; she was catching up on all the work she should’ve been doing while she was cooking for her son, or answering questions about her clothing.
Or crawling towards him. Or refusing to dance on the table.
He was undeniably curious about what subsequent levels of the app would do, but he didn’t know that he couldn’t handle any more uncomfortable feelings about his mother, so he pushed the thoughts away.
Maybe that was why he’d failed his art exam—one of the classes he was actually good at. The entire time, he’d been distracted, cursing Control for making him… aware… of his mother’s body.
Or perhaps it had been self-sabotage. If he got a good grade, his mother would pay for the next level of the app. And Finn didn’t know if he’d be able to resist clicking through and finding out what that level would unlock.
He didn’t want to know.
What he hadn’t bargained for was his art teacher reaching out to his mother directly, to see if there was anything wrong at home. Getting a D- may have been standard in Finn’s other classes, but he’d never even come close to failing in art class before.
And so when he’d gotten home that afternoon, his mother’s furious expression had been waiting for him inside the kitchen.
“You got a D?” she hissed. Finn had nodded dumbly, not knowing what to say. “What the hell were you thinking?“
“I didn’t WANT to fail!” he snapped, immediately regretting it. His mother’s eyes narrowed, her pupils becoming pinpoints of fury.
“You are grounded,” she said flatly. “For a month. Two months! Hell, for the rest of the year, if your damn grades don’t improve. I thought we had a deal, Finnegan, but then you go and pull this crap on me?”
“On you? On you? How does this have anything to do with you?“
“Because, Finnegan Michael Bell, I am your mother. Everything you do reflects on me. When you fail at school, it’s not just your future you’re screwing up. Everyone looks at me and says ‘Oh, there goes Samantha, the single mother who can’t even get her son to graduate high school.”
“Oh my god,” Finn groaned. “How do you always manage to make everything all about YOU?“
“Because you are the only thing in the world that matters to me, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure that you don’t screw it up!”
“Screw what up? School?”
“Your life, Finn! Your whole damn life!”
Finn’s fists were clenched as he glared at his mother. It was clear that neither of them was going to back down.
“It was one mistake!“
“No, Finn, it wasn’t. It wasn’t a mistake that you didn’t try harder. It wasn’t a mistake that you didn’t study. It wasn’t a mistake that you didn’t take your exams seriously. And even if it was, it certainly wasn’t one mistake. It’s a mistake that you’ve been making for an entire year now, and I’m not going to put up with it anymore. You’re grounded until further notice… “
The teenage boy didn’t say anything, just glared at his mother, but she wasn’t done yet.
“… and if you don’t shape up, I’ll have to take your phone away as well.”
His jaw set, Finn marched into his room, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself back on his bed and screamed into his pillow. So much for trying the carrot—as usual, the first time he screwed up, his mother resorted to the stick. Typical—the only way she seemed to know how to interact with her son was to punish him.
Frustrated and mad, Finn pulled out his phone and opened Control. His mother’s credit card was still attached—perhaps now that he’d completed Level One, the next stage would be unlocked. He didn’t know what it would hold, but he knew that it would be humiliating for her.
And in his upset state, Finn wanted nothing more than to humiliate his mother.
A pop-up appeared as soon as he opened the app: “Resuming last session.” Finn sat up, his eyes wide. He’d assumed that when he went to sleep, the rest of his time would go to waste. It seemed the app had detected the lack of activity and stored it for later.
For now.
7:39:41 appeared on-screen and started ticking down. Enough to take him through bedtime.
More than enough time to make his mother reconsider treating him the way she had.
Opening the app, Finn’s eyes flashed with anger and glee as he dressed his mother in an outfit he knew she’d never voluntarily don. A punk-rock t-shirt, with a black miniskirt and white fishnet stockings. Six-inch heels in a bright, gaudy red.
He slid his fingers across the screen—his options for her hair were limited by its length… he considered a mohawk, or making her completely bald, but after a bit of playing, he managed to find something truly humiliating: a pair of pigtails, sticking up from her head like antennae. He left her hair its natural red, only slightly less bright than her new shoes.
Closing the screen, Finn left his room to find his mother, dressed exactly like her digital counterpart. He smiled triumphantly as his eyes scanned up and down her body. She looked completely ridiculous.
No wonder the app had so many positive reviews.
“Mom,” he asked. “Why are you wearing that?”
As she turned to him, he could tell that she was still mad. “Answer all my questions,” he ordered, his phone buzzing in response.
“I love this outfit,” she said coldly.
“Why?”
“riot grrl were an important part of feminist history,” she began, but Finn held up a hand to cut her off.
“No,” he said boldly. “You like the shirt because you think it makes you look like a rebel.”
Finn’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn’t bother pulling it out; his mother’s nod had told him that it had forced her to agree.
“You’re right,” she said quietly. “I like it because it makes me look like a rebel.”
“You want to dress like a punk rocker because you think it makes you cool,” he continued. “But you’re not a riot grrrl. You’re just some old lady trying to prove that you’re a rebel.”
Buzz.
“Yes,” Finn’s mother responded. “I’m… I’m just a mom.”
Finn nodded, then smiled as a thought struck him.
“You’re going to be less hard on me from now on,” he commanded. “You’re going to stop being so uptight about everything.”
Again, his phone buzzed. And again, he didn’t need to pull it out to know what it would say—“Request denied.”
His mother’s lips thinned, and she held her head up high. Her expression was a stark contrast to her outfit.
“No,” she said flatly. “If I don’t push you, you’ll… ”
“… never learn to apply yourself,” Finn finished for her. It was another lecture he’d heard countless times before. Again, he wished he had chosen any of the other options when setting up the app—with the power it held, he could’ve had Jenny on his arms, or Terrance’s mom on her knees, lips wrapped around his cock…
With a frustrated sigh, Finn sat down at the table. The wooden furniture hid the tent in his pants that had formed at the thought of Ashley, the blonde bombshell at his command, like his mother was. His eyes flicked down to his mother’s black skirt; it ended a few inches above her knees, revealing a hint of her creamy white thighs.
Forcing his attention back to her face, Finn had another idea.
“Apologize,” he ordered. “For how you spoke to me earlier.”
Buzz.
“I… I’m sorry,” his mother replied obediently. “I’m just… I’m just worried about you.”
To his frustration, the words didn’t make him feel any better. If anything, they just pissed him off more. “Don’t worry about me, Mom,” he spat. “I can take care of myself.”
His mother shook her head in response, her hands clasped tightly together.
“The world is a harsh place,” she said softly. “It chews people up and spits them out; I know right now it seems like you can just get out there and win at life, but it’s all so much harder than you’re expecting.”
Finn rolled his eyes. He hadn’t heard this exact lecture before, but he’d heard enough like it. Yada yada work hard, apply yourself, do exactly as I say, or you won’t stand a chance. It was just an excuse to control him. If he could just get out of high school and start making games, he knew that success wouldn’t be far behind. If it wasn’t for school—and his mom—holding him back, the world would be his oyster.
He just needed to get free.
“You’re a smart kid, honey,” his mother continued, her voice soft. “Smarter than you realize. I love you, but I can’t do everything for you.”
“Again,” Finn said bitterly, and his mother narrowed her eyes in confusion.
“Again, what?”
“Apologize again,” Finn ordered. “And this time, don’t turn it into a lecture.”
Buzz.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” his mother said. “I… I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
She fell silent, and Finn raised his eyebrows. Without being able to tell him how to live his life, she had nothing to say.
“Make me a coffee,” he snapped, and the phone buzzed as his mother got up and jumped into action. As she walked across the kitchen, Finn couldn’t help but notice how tightly the miniskirt clung to his mother’s ass as she reached up to grab a mug.
“I won’t always be here to help you,” Samantha said softly as she set the coffee down in front of him. Finn narrowed his eyes—she couldn’t even bring him a cup of coffee without turning it into a morality play.
“You really are such a bitch sometimes,” he muttered under his breath.
“Excuse me?”
Finn knew that he should let it go. Bite his tongue, keep things civil. But the sight of his mother’s pigtails, her tight shirt…
For the next six or seven hours, he was in control. He didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to.
And he wanted to tell his mother what a bitch she was.
“Shut up,” he snapped. Buzz. “You aren’t allowed to say a word until I give you permission.”
Finn’s mother kept her mouth closed, but her frown made it very clear how she felt about the situation.
“What I said was: you’re such a bitch. You’re so fucking uptight. You act like I’m some child who needs to be protected from the world. I don’t need your protection. I’m eighteen years old and I’ve got my own life. I’ll take care of myself.“
Unable to object, Finn’s mother turned away.
“Look at me,” Finn ordered. Buzz. “You think you’re doing it all for me? You think you’re saving me from some terrifying future? Fuck off. This is all just a control trip for you—you need to control everything in your life, including me. You’re so pathetic—trying to exercise whatever power you don’t have at work. I’m an adult, and you’re just some old lady with a bunch of rules that she thinks are good for me. And you know what else? I hate you. I really fucking hate you.”
Both Finn and his mother were red-faced, breathing heavily as Finn concluded his rant. Her face was inches from his, and he could see that every part of her was itching to reply, to tell him how she was his mother and she knew better, or that he’d look back someday and see that she was right all along.
But so long as he was in control, she couldn’t.
“Now,” he said, continuing to glare at his mother. “Make me a sandwich.”
Finn would’ve bet his phone that if she hadn’t been under the control of Control, his mother would’ve grounded him for the rest of his life. Hell, maybe once the timer ran out, she’d still be mad—but he’d deal with the fallout when it came. For now, he was going to enjoy his remaining time in charge.
He watched with a smile as his mother fumingly obeyed his order. He couldn’t help but enjoy the view as she bent over to fetch the butter from the bottom shelf of the fridge. And when she brought him the sandwich, he took his time eating it, savoring the moment.
When he was done, he once more allowed her to speak, unsurprised when she began trying to refute his earlier points.
“Everything I do is for you,” she spat. “I’m not doing this because I want to. I’m doing it because I love you.”
Finn rolled his eyes.
“Oh, please,” he scoffed. Having gone on his rant (and eaten), he felt much more able to deal with his mother’s shit. “This isn’t how you treat someone you love. Controlling them, treating them like a puppet.”
“Finn… " she replied, before falling off.
“What?” he said. “Tell me what you were going to say. How you really feel.”
Buzz.
“I don’t want you to waste your life,” his mother blurted out, surprised by the words coming out of her mouth. “I know you want to be a game programmer, but you’re not going to make it. You need a backup.”
The room fell silent, as Finn’s eyes widened. He had no idea his mother knew what he wanted to do.
And he certainly hadn’t known that she didn’t believe he could do it.
Finn stared at his mother, stunned.
“You know?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“Yes,” she nodded. “I’m… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“What else are you not telling me? Tell me, now.”
Buzz.
“Nothing,” his mother replied, and the phone’s buzz ensured Finn that she was telling the truth. “I just want you to be happy.”
Finn was shaking with rage as the full impact of his mother’s words began to sink in. What did she know about game development? What did she know about his capabilities? Where did she get off, telling him that he wasn’t good enough, when all she knew was how to be a house dictator and middle management at an office job?
He’d show her. He’d prove to her how wrong she was. And in the meantime…
“Go clean my room,” he ordered. Buzz. That, he figured, would use up the rest of his hours.
And give him time to work out how to get back at her.
* * *