Binoculation

Disclaimer--Nothing written is true. Let me know if you want me to keep going with the story.

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I suppose I should start from when I purchased the binoculars. The directions allowed for programming a limit of two images into the lenses. When a person looked through the binocs at something, they were getting bombarded by strong subliminal imagery. These images would ingrain into the subconscious of the person. I was cautioned that the power of the images varied depending on the person they were being used on, but once the images were in, it was almost impossible to get them out.

For example, if you wanted to cure someone who had arachnophobia, you would put an image of a person stepping on a spider alongside an image of a spider beside a person who was obviously happy to see the spider.

It was paramount to program the right images; things the mind could latch onto in order to create the idea you'd be putting into their mind. It was true you were limited to two images, but you could change those images anytime. In my case, the major challenge was the taboo nature of it.

I'm 20 and came home for summer break to live with my mother Shari, who is in her early forties and still looks beautiful. She is tall at 5'9", sporting a classic hourglass figure at 37C-27-37 with a fantastic pear-shaped bottom. She had strong Germanic features and kept active by jogging and yoga. My mother finalized her second divorce from a guy who was a total bastard, but one with money, so we ended up having a large house with a part time housekeeping staff.

My mother and I had grown distant. She lived on the second floor while I lived in the basement. I spent a lot of time off at college and I worked for the first few months of this summer on campus, but came home to spend a few months before going off again. The house was so large we seldom met, and when we did, it was an awkward affair. Not that we treated each other unfairly, we just weren't warm with each other. We were effectively strangers.

I told myself at the time I wanted to make her love me more as a son. Perhaps I reminded her of a better or worse time in her life. Perhaps I had abandonment issues and wanted my mother to take more of an interest in my life. What I really wanted though, was to transform my mother into my sex slave.

Another positive thing about her second marriage is that she'd gotten into horse racing. How she loved to dress for the track! Opening day at the Del Mar was starting July 16 and was a big part of summer. I purchased scalped tickets; they cost a small fortune, but if the binoculars were successful, it would be worth it. I invited mom, and she agreed enthusiastically.

I played it off as a fun outing. I told her it would be a splendid chance for us to catch up, and she wouldn't have to worry about binoculars, since I had a pair for her. I programmed images of a mother hugging a son, and of a woman looking through binoculars with a big smile. She spent the day looking through the binocs, and as the day wore on, she gradually became more affectionate. She also really liked the binocs, which was exactly what I wanted.

When we got home, I did some yard work while she recovered inside. We usually ate dinner separately. Tonight, as I finished my brussel sprouts, I heard mom come into the dining room.

"Casper," she spoke. I couldn't see her yet.

"Mom."

She'd let her long, sun-kissed blond hair down. It flowed over her ample bosom; she wore her usual body length white robe and her long sleeve stretch knit bamboo pajamas she had on underneath. As it was summer, this was overkill, but she always dressed conservatively around me. She always needed to make sure both her legs and breasts were covered. Standing in front of me, hands crossed almost defensively over her chest, I concentrated on looking at her forehead so as not to ogle her.

"I wanted to let you know I had a lot of fun today." She said it almost grudgingly, like it was something unexpected. Then she smiled, and I couldn't help but return it. She had taken her makeup off and had some lotion on her face; perhaps it was part of mom's nightly beauty routine. Whatever the case, we traded smiles.

"So did I, mom. I hope we can do it again, soon," I offered. She seemed to consider it for a bit.

"I would like that," she admitted.

"Oh, I almost forgot," I was going to talk to her tomorrow, but I figured since she was here, I may as well.

"I'm going to put up some bird feeders tomorrow. They're a fair distance away from the house, but if you want, you can borrow my binoculars if you want to get a good look."

Mom's smile brightened at the mention of the binoculars.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea!" She almost squealed.

I couldn't help but respond to that. "Anything to keep you looking happy, mom."

Her bright smile faltered when I said that. Did I go too far?

"I'm also going to mow the front lawn tomorrow. Will that be okay, mom?" The change of subjects seemed to work.

"Of course, Casper. I'll let you get back to your dinner." And with that, she retired upstairs. My mind raced; clearly, she'd wanted the binoculars again, showing a bit more affection towards me. I went with the same two images.

The next day was busy. I started the day with a bit of yard work, then put up those bird feeders. I gave my binocs to mom so she could spend a great deal of time watching birds. Bird watching was something she hadn't done before, so this was a new thing.

On the fourth day, I came up from the basement for breakfast and mom was on the veranda with my binocs in hand, surveying not only the bird feeders but various other things.

"Morning mom." I greeted her as I came out, dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top. It was about 70 degrees already and was looking to be a hot day. She was dressed in a long aqua smocked midi dress that hid her curves and was high enough not to show cleavage. Her shoulders, arms and neck were all exposed. Her beautiful blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail that went down almost to her lower back. She took the binocs out and turned to greet me with a bright smile.

"Good morning, Casper!" She caught me by surprise, coming over and hugging me. I soaked up the hug and embraced her right back. Her body was tight and soft in all the right places. Her hair smelled like coconut oil. I kept my hands on her upper back, and she did the same. During breakfast, she confided about trying bird watching as a hobby. I encouraged her, but also asked if we could go to the races again. She was all for it and purchased tickets. She even talked about getting season passes.

She was hooked on the binocs, so I replaced both images with an image of me along with a racy image of a naked woman on her knees on the floor with her ass in the air, her right cheek lying on the floor, right arm straight in front of her, left arm by her face. It was an erotic image of subservience, and I was curious how mom would respond.

Things changed for the better after a few days. I shifted my dinner time to match hers and she welcomed it. I sat with her in the sectional as she watched TV, listening to her talk about her day. I offered to put some skin lotion on her shoulders the night before we went to the track again. She agreed, and I was rewarded by getting to massage her wonderful shoulders while admiring her beautiful hair. She still dressed conservatively, however.

"Mom?"

Her eyes were closed. She was looking down while I worked the lotion into her shoulders.

"Hmmm?"

"I don't know what you're going to wear tomorrow, but I think you should wear something that shows off more skin."

Mom was still looking down.

"Why would I want to show off more skin? My skin would burn; you know how sensitive I am."

"You certainly don't have to, mom, but I think you should. Plus, I could rub some SPF lotion on any exposed skin before we go out. If you think you might burn, we could go under the palisade and stay out of direct sunlight."

I held my breath, waiting to see what she'd say.

"I might still have some dresses I could wear. Thank you for offering to rub lotion on me, Casper."

Yes! "No problem, mom. We wouldn't want to see your skin burn."

The next day, I changed out the subservient image with a closeup of a beautiful female model looking right at you, nursing a cock with her tongue. Mom wore a long green summer dress that showed off her ample cleavage and clung to her gorgeous figure more than the other dresses. When I complimented her on how it looked, she blushed and thanked me. Before we left, I rubbed SPF lotion into her shoulders, back, arms, and finally, the top of her chest.

"Allow me." I stood in front of her, a bit taller than mom at six feet even. With her hands up, I rubbed the lotion into her neck and clavicle area.

"I'll get my chest, son," she suggested.

"No problems, mom. You have great skin." Too soon. I decided to relent.

"Thank you."

"I know you use a lot of lotion to keep your skin looking good, mom. Going forward, I'd really like to help you do this."

"If that's...what you want."

"I'd like that, mom."

"Okay." I noticed she didn't look me in the eye, instead looking down.

The day at the derby was fun. For the next part of my plan, I arranged to have more than a few pictures taken of us together. I spent a lot of time with my arm around mom and vice-versa. I went lower this time though, grabbing her around the waist when we were standing, or touching the small of her back. She didn't say anything, just let it all happen, and in some cases reciprocated. She used the binocs a lot more than she needed to, and I was almost sorry I had switched out the subservient image with the blowjob one.

On the way home, mom suggested we stop by a restaurant. I was all for it, so we picked a nice Italian restaurant. The overall mood rode the line between affection and intimacy. A week ago, my mother would barely touch her son, but now she was displaying open affection. I wanted her so badly it was almost maddening. My patience wore thin. I played a game with her during dinner, having her look through the binocs.

I did pick up on something during dinner, though. I noticed she was looking intently over at one of the other tables, and when I followed her gaze, I saw a striking brunette that looked a lot like the model in the blowjob image. Was mom attracted to the woman based on the image? I grew hard, as this knowledge opened some possibilities.

Mom had a few too many glasses of wine, so she was pleasantly buzzed when we arrived home. From the moment I took her out of the car, she held my hand. When I grabbed her around her shapely waist and pulled her into me there was no resistance; she put her arms around me and giggled.

"Oh Casper, thank you for such a wonderful day!"

"You're welcome, mom. You are my pleasure." I meant to say "Are" but committed a literal Freudian slip.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were getting fresh with me," she suggested while we moved through the house. Something in her tone warned me it wasn't time yet.

"I love you mom, but I just want you to be happy. I'm glad you had a great time today; I'll help you upstairs, but after that I'm afraid you're on your own." I shrugged for effect, trying not to let my actual feelings show. She seemed almost disappointed.

"Helping me upstairs would be wonderful, son."

We started going upstairs, my arm around her waist, in the small of her back, her arms around me.

"I noticed you looking at a pretty lady at the other table tonight, mom."

"You noticed that, did you? I'm always on the lookout for potential dates for you, son. You need to go out more!"

"Mom, I know that wasn't it. I want you to tell me why," I pressed.

"She was pretty, is all."

I nodded. "She was pretty, wasn't she, mom. I noticed her lips." We made it up the stairs and I looked over at mom after I said that, noticing how her eyes wandered to the tent I was sprouting in my pants.

"Her tongue was nice too, wasn't it mom?" I asked, nonchalantly. She nodded in agreement, her mouth slack. As she tried to tear her gaze from my erection, she licked her upper lip.

"It was a cock-sucking mouth," she murmured huskily.

"What mother, I didn't hear you," I responded, breaking the spell. Mother blanched, looking first at me, then the ground.

"Oh, nothing. I should go to bed." She began stumbling to her room.

"I'd like to go on another date with you, mom."

She turned around, drunkenly smiling. "I'd like that too, Casper." She didn't seem to notice the date reference. That could have been due to the alcohol, though. She looked down, not making eye contact.

"I'd like to thank you for being such a wonderful date, mom." I moved in for a hug. She raised her arms, and I took her in, putting both hands on her haunches, burying my face into her neck. She did likewise. This was not the hug of a mother and son.

"It's okay to look me in the eye sometimes. You have such wonderful eyes yourself." I talked in a low octave into her ear. I lightly grazed it with my lips and I both heard and felt her intake of breath. Her breasts felt great pressed against my chest. As I decided to separate from the embrace first, I kissed her on the cheek. She had the blush of arousal.

"Oh mom, one more thing before you go to bed."

"Yes son?"

"Your skin feels great, but it looks even better. I'd like you to show more skin around the house. Do this for me, okay mom?"

She looked me in the eye. "Would you like that, son?"

I nodded. "It would please me, mom."

"Okay," she sighed.

I turned around, heading downstairs to the basement with a satisfied smile on my face. I got to my room with the binocs and changed the images on the binocs to that of a woman on top of a man, fucking him. The man was out of the picture enough so you couldn't see him, but you could plainly see penetration and the woman loving it. The other image was of a picture of mom and me from the derby, both smiling, with our arms around each other. I ran the binocs up to the dining room table knowing she'd use them as soon as she could. I then jacked off thinking of how close to fucking my own mother I was before falling asleep.

I woke up earlier than usual Sunday morning and saw mom doing yoga on the veranda. Black yoga pants hugged her toned legs, and a black yoga tank top exposed her midriff. She had a sheen of sweat going. The binocs were out on the table so I knew she'd been using them. I set a pot of tea on and poured a cup for myself and her. Before I walked out, I decided to take off my shirt, just leaving my shorts on. I also stroked myself to hardness before walking out.

With a cup of tea in each hand, I took a seat on the veranda while watching mom do her routine. She never saw me until after she was done, which was a testament to how focused she was. Pleasant surprise marked her face, then a blush when she saw my erection. She sashayed over, looking down but glancing shyly at my erection every now and then.

"Mother, I come bearing gifts," I said as I stood. I put my hands out, inviting her into a hug, which she eagerly did. Our bodies melded, my erection pressed up against her toned belly. Both my hands were on the small of her back, the tips of my fingers on the rise of her ass. Her arms went around my back and waist as she accepted the romantic embrace. I could feel the heat radiate from her, the sweat on her arms coated my bare back; the smell of coconut and her sweat was intoxicating.

"Good morning, Casper. You know, you really should put a shirt on." She pulled back to chastise me, looking me in the eye. I kissed her on the cheek, drawing a blush from her. Her hand was pressed into my chest and wasn't moving.

"I love you, mom," I spoke. Again, I separated from body contact before she could.

"I love you too, son," she responded.

"I brought out your favorite tea, by the way. Let's sit," I suggested. It occurred to me that sex was something she hadn't been getting in quite some time. I imagined it was tough for her to resist the sexual aspects of the imagery.

"Thank you, Casper. You're spoiling your mother."

"So, what's on your agenda today, mom?" I asked. She went over everything she was going to do. She was always so active, so vibrant.

"Mom, when you get done cleaning up, come back down and I'll be ready with the lotion."

She looked at me, smiling demurely. "Okay, Casper."

When she came back down, I had my shirt back on. She wore shorts and a floral tank top that showed off her cleavage. I had her sit on the couch, applying lotion on her shoulders, arms, and back. I then moved to her legs, concentrating on her feet. She began making cooing noises during the foot massage. I moved up to her calves, then I worked her thighs. I didn't go too high, but I had a feeling I could have pushed it even higher had I wanted to.

We went out shopping; I suggested some different things for her, and she only vetoed one of my suggestions, which was a sexy string bikini. The way things were going, she'd be back to get it next week. During the outing we stole glances at each other. I began to wonder if the imagery hadn't revealed a set of core sexual needs that she began affiliating to me and was mulling over how best to act on them. We had an intimate lunch, holding hands and carrying on intimately. We shared a piece of pumpkin pie. I would feed her, and she'd take a bite while staring into my eyes. I thought it was sexy as hell. When I put a hand on her upper thigh, her hand went over the top of it. I had to fight to keep from ravaging her right then and there.

When we arrived home, I suggested tea on the veranda, which she readily agreed to. I brought out the binocs and asked her some questions about the birds in the area. She used them for five minutes before putting them down, blushing furiously. I knew those images of us having sex were burying their way into her subconscious.

"Excuse me for a moment, Casper?" She asked, standing.

"Of course, mom," I answered. She hurried off, and I knew where. I waited a minute before silently making my way up the stairs to the door of her bedroom. I could hear her moaning; she was masturbating right on the other side of the door.

"Casper -- Oh Casper!" I smiled. It was only a matter of time.

The next few days passed quickly, my mother was trying to come to grips with her new feelings while I was free with my affections, initiating contact whenever I could in order to gradually wear away at her moral center. The beginning of the third day found me switching the images back to the subservience and an image of me naked with my cock in my hand.

That night mother and I ate dinner in the living room. The housekeeping staff left for the day, so it was just her and me. I entered, wearing a tank top and shorts, and not wearing any underwear. She sat on the sofa in a black plunging cowl neck mini. It was all kinds of inappropriate compared to what she'd normally wear. It showed off both her legs and her large rack. The plunging cowl went all the way to her belly button. I had both a bottle of lotion and a towel. She grinned expectantly when I came in with it.

"Tonight mom, I'm going to start on your feet, okay?"

She sighed, stretching her arms over her head, arching her back.

"Okay, son." She put her foot in my lap as I sat across from her.

I started on her feet and her head dropped down. She began making cooing noises, and one of her hands absently moved to touch her right breast. Rubbing it through the fabric, her breathing became labored. After a minute of squeezing her own tit, she had a moment of self-realization as she was fondling herself in front of her son. She looked at me, mortified. I had her leg, and she hadn't resisted.

"It's alright mom. You can touch yourself if you want."