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?"
