This is a story containing non-consensual incest between an adult mother and her son. No characters in any of my stories are underage and all are clearly over eighteen, written as such.
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Hypnotising His Mother
Part One
David sat at his desk, frowning at the contraption in his hands, which he could not have said was entirely of his own design. The black metal curved around like a pair of headphones but that was the easy part of it - anyone could do that, he was sure. The problem, however, came with the pieces that could fit over one's ears as a pair of headphones, the metal and attributes that he had designed into the frame something that could change the course of his life and his luck with the ladies forever.
David frowned. You know, if it worked, that was.
He swept his fingers back through his tousled black hair, more of a mess in the dead of the night than it usually was, though he had no other quiet time to make use of what he had found online. It had started out as a project, a passing fancy, but after he'd injured his foot at work and been off for a little while, he'd just started to tinker, bored with the everyday cause of it all. Normally a moderately active sort, the friends that he saw from time to time would have joked and joshed and described him as athletic, though he had lost a little of his fitness since needing to rest up. Now, he could get about well enough without crutches or looking like he had a limp but running and jogging were still out of the question.
Sighing, he turned them over in his hands. Were they right? Would they work? If they didn't, he would only be laughed at for it, surely, but he was so lonely and he'd been without for so long that it didn't seem like he had anything at all to lose if he just gave it a shot. He was just down on his luck, friends said, he'd find a girlfriend soon. Only, with work taking up so much of his time, he just hadn't been able to do that, even with moving back in with his mother to make sure that he was able to save like mad for the debt of his prior studies.
He frowned, again. Life was a real bitch sometimes. Maybe that was why he needed something for himself too, even if it was a bit of fun, only for a laugh. Hypnosis headphones, after all, couldn't really do all that they promised, he was sure, and his mother was going to laugh her head off at him when she asked what he did. At least his folly would be something to take her mind off work too.
He didn't need to be all that stealthy as he made his way to her bedroom down the hall from his: she slept like the dead. Work tired her out and, well, Charlotte just didn't take enough time for herself. Maybe he thought that the headphones would help with that but that was just another thing that David was kidding himself over, that he could change things in his love life, even lust for the woman who had drawn his eye so many times over as he became an adult. She'd just looked different to him when he'd come back from studying away, college in another city as a man living alone for the first time, yet he'd wanted to come back to her to see, well, just how she had changed during the course of things.
Entering her bedroom, he remained lighter on his feet than he had ever been. He had to be quiet if he wanted it to work, even though he still didn't quite believe it himself. Maybe it would or maybe it wouldn't but he would find out in time, his mother lying back in the queen-sized bed, the sheets tucked up under her chin as if she was cold. She always ran hot, however, which was just why she had plain cotton sheets, something that David had heard far too much about when he'd been around her, which was just one of many little things that annoyed him about her. Still, mothers and sons were rather apt to get on one another's nerves, or so he was told, and that wasn't about to put him off all that much from taking things to the next level if the door was to be opened and offered to him.
The one thing he'd learned, at least, was to leap for any opportunity...
His mother looked quite like him, or him like her, with long, black hair, which was perfectly straight. She'd always said that he'd look like her with a slighter more delicate face if he'd grown it out, though he had never had a particularly strong jaw-line. Maybe he would have looked more like his father if he'd been on the more nerdy side of things but that ship had well and truly sailed and David honestly could not say that he had all that much interest in his father anymore.
His mother, however, with her rosy cheeks, chest rising and falling softly in sleep even under the covers, was a different story. His breath caught as he stepped silently up to the bed, heart in his mouth, a neat diary beside her bed set out with an expensive pen marked with her name: Charlotte. He wouldn't need to read her diary anymore to find out just what was going on with her, although he had long suspected that she was holding back even in that diary, something important that may have brought more interest to their relationship than anything else.
Soon... He held his breath, sliding them over her ears, not bothering to move her hair out of the way of her ears, the pads easing down. Soon, he would know just what she was keeping a secret from him.
"Nuhhh..."
Charlotte stirred, something pressing in around her head, closing in. It pinched on her ears and she struggled, floundering, but her arms were tucked in under the sheets and hidden from helping herself in any way. Yet she was not quick enough to stop her son from pressing the button on the side, switching them on, a cable connected to the ancient MP3 player (she'd always wondered just why he'd kept that old thing) playing a recording that he had meticulously put together using software on his computer that had been bought and played with perhaps only once or twice before. She would never have expected that the expensive kit that she'd gotten him would come to such use but it was more than David himself could have ever hoped for with the soft sounds echoing through her ears.
Deeper and deeper, Charlotte was swift to fall.
The only sign that David had to tell that the hypnosis, however it worked, was actually working was when she fell calmer, slowing in her protests. The droning repetitions seeped into her head as she leaned back into bed, one arm out over the top of the covers, her son wide-eyed and staring. Had it worked? Had it really worked? He didn't know what to think, could not possibly have known, breath catching in his throat as he stared down at his mother as if she was about to leap up and spook him at any moment.