Unlimited
by Pan
Chapter 2:
Obviously, my aim wasn’t to get Mom turned on by sexually transmitted infections. That would be, uh…unhelpful.
But step one of my plan was to play into her refusal to talk about sex, to twist and amplify it for my own purposes.
Step two? That was a little bit darker.
Session A115:
“What do you know about Marcie?”
“She’s four months younger than your sister. She’s got brown hair, her mother is a nurse, her father is…”
I interrupted. Should have been more specific.
“What do you know about what happened to Marcie recently?”
A hint of sadness hit my mother’s blank eyes (after spending enough time around hypnotized people, you learn to read even the most subtle changes in their expression).
After I’d broken Marcie, I’d tweaked Mom and Lucy’s memories to add a bit of distance. A drifting apart between my sister and her best friend; something to make sure that Lucy wouldn’t be totally crushed when she found out about Marcie’s…condition.
Fortunately, Lucy was more than a little distracted by our new relationship, and Mom never been too fond of Marcie to begin with.
“I heard she…”
Mom, perhaps being diplomatic, drifted off. I sat patiently as her entranced mind worked on phrasing.
“I heard she had a breakdown.”
“Do you know what caused it?”
“No.”
Good.
“Hypothetical: You’re talking…”
I trailed off. Who would be telling Mom these details? It couldn’t be me or Lucy, and she wasn’t close with Marcie’s parents at all.
“You’re talking to a gossipy neighbor who heard the police report.”
Nod.
Fortunately, Mom knows as little as I do about police proceedings. Exactly what situation would lead to someone hearing the report being made to the police, I don’t know, but as long as Mom can imagine it…I don’t have to.
“They tell you that there was a burglary.”
Mom nodded, and I paused. God, this was…I couldn’t.
Could I?
I took a deep breath.
I’d spent a week setting this up. All the pieces were in place. All I had to do was bite the bullet.
“There was a burglary, and Marcie was home when it happened.”
Session A109:
“You’re sitting on the train.”
Nod.
“There’s a couple across from you, making out.”
Nod.
“It’s two women.”
Nod.
“What do you do?”
“I try not to look.”
I smiled at Mom’s phrasing.
“Even when you’re not looking directly at them, you can still hear the sound of their pleasure. They’re moaning with pleasure, grunting slightly. You can hear the sound of their lips smacking.”
Nod.
“What do you do?”
“I try not to listen.”
“You have a vivid imagination, don’t you?”
“…yes.”
“It’s easy to imagine yourself in their place, isn’t it?”
“…yes.”
I was surprised that she even answered that one. I had to remember not to ask Mom questions when I was getting into the nitty-gritty details.
“It’s easy to imagine yourself in the woman’s place, being touched, being publicly felt up by another woman.”
Nod.
“It’s easy to imagine yourself exposed in public—everyone’s eyes on you, everyone noticing how turned on you are, how excited you are to be touched.”
Nod.
“It’s easy to picture your lips pressed against a beautiful woman, not caring that society disapproves, not caring about anything but feeding your lust.”
Mom’s cheeks were aflame, but she nodded nonetheless.
“It’s easy to imagine your hands running across her body, feeling how soft her skin is, appreciating her curves.”
Nod.
“Her hands running over your body, touching you, making you pant and moan.”
Nod.
“That night, when you’re alone, you can’t help but touch yourself.”
Nod.
“And when you do, you imagine two things…”
Mom nodded, before I’d even finished the thought.
“…making out in public.”
Nod.
“And being with a sexy woman.”
Nod.
Session A115:
“The burglar had a gun. He tied Marcie and her family up.”
Nod.
“And then, he…he…”
I don’t know why I was hesitating. This was it, I knew it. This was the ticket to everything I’d been building towards, everything I’d been fantasizing about for so long.
I guess on some level, I was scared. What if it didn’t work, and Mom never let me hypnotize her again? What if I’d done something wrong, and whatever had happened to Marcie happened to her as well?
But, on the other hand…what if it worked?
Session A178:
Mom didn’t say a word as I unzipped my pants. She didn’t say anything as I pulled my erection out.
Her eyes—still blank—widened slightly as I moved my hardness towards my face, but she didn’t move, and she didn’t say a word.
As my cock approached her mouth, her lips parted, and her tongue reached out to taste my head.
Session A112:
“The world is full of vice, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Everywhere you go, everywhere you look, you see sex.”
Nod.
“You try so hard not to look, but it’s hard, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“It’s impossible not to observe it all the time. It fills your head, consumes you.”
Nod.
“Whenever you’re alone, whenever you get a chance, you have to get them out of your system. You have to touch yourself, play with yourself, bring yourself to orgasm.”
Nod.
“Again and again, you let the images of sex run through your brain, you let your imagination insert you into sexual situations.”
Nod.
“You’re cumming three, four, five times a day. Whenever you’re alone, you’re thinking about sex. It’s like you’re obsessed, but it’s not your fault.”
Nod.
“You’re a good, moral person. It’s the world that’s filled with sex, and your only way of dealing with it is to let it run through your head while you cum.”
Nod.
“You’re constantly thinking about sex, you’re constantly wet, you’re constantly finding excuses to find time to yourself so you can get off.”
Nod.
“Everything sexual you see becomes fuel for your masturbation sessions. Everything you see, you can picture yourself doing those things. In your mind, you’re a sexual object, but the rest of the world still sees you as a good person, as a good mother.”
Nod.
“If you could, you’d play with yourself right now. Just talking about getting off is enough to make you horny, to get you wet. As soon as you can, you’re going to make an excuse to leave. You’re going to head to your room, shut the door, and you’re going to get off.”
Nod.
“Would you tell me if you own any sex toys?”
“Yes.”
“Do you own any sex toys?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if you wished you did?”
“No.”
“What would you do if you found one of Lucy’s?”
“I…I…”
Mom’s breathing was heavy as she slowly drifted back into consciousness. She was wearing a thin white t-shirt and the pair of cut-off denim shorts that I’d slipped into her drawers. I’d been delighted when they’d become a standard part of her around-the-house lineup.
After all, it was just family. What did it matter who saw her in sexy shorts like that?
The front of her shorts were soaked, and the smell of her sex hung in the air. She noticed me staring at her wet patch—up until that moment, Mom had never cared where my eyes were.
After all, I was her son. I couldn’t possibly be attracted to her. What did it matter where I looked?
This time, however, her blush deepened. She mumbled a “thank you”, and fled the room.
Moments later, my ear was pressed against her closed bedroom door. I smiled as I listened to her muffled moans of pleasure.
Session A115:
“The burglar didn’t just rob them.”
Nod.
“He made them…do stuff to each other.”
Mom’s eyes widened, and I wondered if she was going to buy it. It took a few seconds of processing, but—eventually—she nodded.
“Sexual stuff.”
Nod.
“That’s all the neighbor knows. Marcie’s family was robbed, they did sexual stuff to each other…and a few days later, Marcie had a breakdown.”
Nod.
“What do you say?”
“That sounds awful,” Mom replied. I doubt the fictional neighbor would have noticed the slight breathiness to her voice, but I did.
“What do you think of what happened to Marcie?”
“I think it’s tragic.”
“What else do you think of it?”
“Well, that was relaxing. I sure am glad you don’t charge for this, kiddo, or else I’d be broke before the week was out.”
For the first time since I’d started putting people under, waking someone up unexpectedly was the best possible result. I smiled at my mother’s thanks.
“No worries, Mom. Do you want to go again?”
“Sure thing. When were you thinking?”
“How about right now?”
Session A178:
Mom’s eyes fluttered slightly as I grunted with pleasure.
“I’m going to cum. Swallow it.”
Her tongue swirled around my shaft with every thrust. She didn’t use her hands as I fucked her face (I would have been surprised if she did) but her tongue was working overtime to make up for it.
I sighed with pleasure as I unloaded into my mother’s mouth—as instructed, she swallowed it down, blushing furiously as she did.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, and her blush intensified. “I really like fucking your face. You’re a great cocksucker—I don’t think there’s anything as sexy as cumming in my own mother’s mouth. I love knowing that there’s a big load of my cum sitting in your stomach. You’re so fucking sexy.”
She didn’t say anything as I woke her up, although I did see her run her tongue around her mouth, a puzzled look on her face.
Session A114:
“There’s so much sex in the world; after a while it almost starts to blend together.”
Nod.
“It keeps you constantly turned on, constantly aroused, but it doesn’t really stay in your memory.”
Nod.
“So when you’re playing with yourself, you start to think about the really dirty stuff that you encounter. Stuff that’s really fu—…really messed up.”
Mom doesn’t like it when I swear.
“If you see something particularly perverse or wrong, it sticks in your head.”
Nod.
“And that’s what you think about when you get off. The most wrong and sick things you’ve encountered.”
Nod.
“If you hear a rumor about someone you know doing something wrong, that’s the most erotic thing of all. The closer it is to home, the more it affects you.”
Nod.
“Stuff like your daughter having a boyfriend or your son looking at porn—that doesn’t count. That’s perfectly natural. There’s nothing sick about that.”
Nod.
“But if you heard that your boss had gotten an intern pregnant, or that one of your old teachers was caught prostituting themselves—that’s the kind of thing that you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about.”
Nod.
“You’d picture yourself as the boss, or as the intern. You’d imagine yourself selling your body for money.”
Nod.
“The more perverse, the hotter it is.”
Nod.
“The closer to home, the more it affects you.”
Nod.
“Sick, dirty, sexual things that happen to people you know and love…that’s what gets you off more than anything.”
Nod.
Session A116:
“What do you think about what happened to Marcie?”
“I think it’s tragic.”
“Would you tell me if you thought anything else?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if you thought it was perverse?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it’s perverse?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it’s incredibly wrong?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it’s one of the most messed-up things you’ve ever heard of?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it’s one of the most perverted, wrong, messed-up things that’s ever happened to someone you know?”
“Yes.”
“Would you tell me if that turned you on more than anything you’ve ever encountered?”
“No.”
“You come home after talking to the neighbor, and you find one of Lucy’s sex toys. What do you do?”
“I…I…”
Mom’s breathing was erratic when she woke up. Before her eyes could even refocus, she was on her feet, and I heard the tail-end of a “Thanks!” as she staggered out of the door.
It was over an hour before Mom’s door reopened.
Session C12:
“But if no one’s being hurt, and no one else knows about it, how can it be wrong?”
“Because of you.”
“Because of me?”
“No.”
I sighed. This wasn’t getting me anywhere.
“What do you mean ‘because of you’?”
“I mean, morality comes from within. If you know you’re doing something wrong, no one else knowing doesn’t make it right.”
I’d done research this time, but still I kept running into dead ends. Trying to argue morality with a professor had been, I finally acknowledged to myself, a bad idea.
Time for a new tactic.
Morality wasn’t getting me anywhere. It was time to come up with something more…primal.
“Would you tell me what your sex life was like…six months ago?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if it was good?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if it was bad?”
“No.”
Damn. My usual loophole wasn’t going to work here.
“Hypothetical: I come to you with a survey. I’m doing an advanced college course, and one of my classes deals with human sexuality. Would you fill out the survey?”
Pause.
“The results are anonymous, and I look like I’m really bored with the whole thing—like I wouldn’t peek at your answers.”
“Yes.”
“I hand you the pencil. The first few questions are all about…whether you’ve had any interest in someone of the same sex, of the opposite sex, all that kind of stuff. Do you answer them?”
“Yes.”
“The fourth question asks what your sex life was like six months ago. It asks you to rank it from one to ten.”
Nod.
“Do you answer it?”
“Yes.”
“What do you put?”
“Eight.”
“The fifth question asks what your sex life is like now. It asks you to rank it from one to ten.”
Nod.
“Do you answer it?”
“Yes.”
“What do you put?”
“Zero.”
Perfect.