Dr. Emma Taylor, a renowned psychologist, has always been close to her son, Ethan. It's unusual for a mother to be her son's therapist, but with the loss of her husband, his father, she feels uniquely qualified to know what Ethan is going through. Ethan is reluctant to open up to his mother on private matters. However, Emma knows it's an important psychological subject for a young teen male, so she decides to hypnotize him to get answers.
Emma's fingers danced across the couch cushions, her trained gaze locked onto Ethan's relaxed features as she counted backwards, guiding him into a state of deep relaxation. "You're feeling calm, safe, and completely at ease," she soothed, her words weaving a gentle spell around her son. As his eyelids drooped, Emma's professional mask slipped, replaced by a mother's curiosity. She cleared her throat, her question barely above a whisper. "Ethan, tell me about your date with Sarah last week. What happened at the movies?" Under hypnosis, Ethan's expression transformed, his lips curling into a sly smile. "We were watching that new superhero film," he began, his voice low and husky. "Sarah was really into it, cheering whenever the hero saved the day." Emma's pencil scribbled notes on her pad, her brow furrowed in concentration. "And then?" she prompted gently. Ethan's grin widened, his words spilling out in a rush. "Then we snuck back during the credits and made out in the back row. She gave me head, Mom." Emma's pencil paused, her heart skipping a beat as she fought to maintain her neutral tone. "That must have been...exciting." She scribbled furiously, trying to process this unexpected revelation.
Emma's pencil hovered above her pad, her professional curiosity piqued. "Tell me more, Ethan. What exactly happened during that encounter?" she asked, her words measured and clinical. Under hypnosis, Ethan's face flushed, his chest rising with a deep breath. "Well, Mom, we were making out pretty heavily. Sarah's hands were all over me, and I was touching her breasts..." He trailed off, his words slowing as he delved deeper into the memory. Emma's grip on her pencil tightened, her knuckles white. "Go on," she urged, her tone deceptively soft. Ethan's voice dropped to a murmur, his words tumbling out in a rush. "She started giving me head, Mom. It felt amazing. I was so close to cumming, but then I started thinking about you..." Emma's pencil faltered, her heart skipping a beat as she tried to process this unexpected twist. "About me?" she repeated, her words laced with caution. Ethan's face contorted, his body tensing beneath the hypnosis. "Yeah...I don't know why, but I pictured you sucking me instead of Sarah. It was weird, but it's what pushed me over the edge." The room fell silent, the only sound Emma's ragged breathing as she struggled to maintain her composure.
Emma's gaze snapped back into focus, her training kicking in as she swiftly counted upwards, bringing Ethan out of his trance-like state. "Ethan, you're awake now. How are you feeling?" she asked, her tone crisp and professional. Ethan blinked, rubbing his temples. "A little disoriented, I guess. Did we cover anything important?" Emma forced a reassuring smile, her hands busy gathering her notes. "Just some general discussions, dear. Nothing to worry about. Our session is done for today." As Ethan stood, stretching his lean frame, Emma couldn't help but notice the way his shoulders flexed, the subtle curve of his neck. She felt a flutter in her chest, a spark of attraction that left her both shocked and intrigued. Later that night, alone in her bedroom, Emma couldn't shake off the image of her son's face, twisted in ecstasy as he described his fantasy of her sucking him. She felt a heat building inside her, a forbidden excitement that left her nipples peaked and her thighs trembling.
A week passed before their next session, and Emma approached it with trepidation. As she guided Ethan into hypnosis once more, she asked about his latest date with Sarah. Ethan's face relaxed, his words spilling out in a low, sultry tone. "We went to the park this time, Mom. We found a secluded spot, and I ate her out..." Emma's pencil faltered, her fingers involuntarily unbuttoning the top two buttons of her blouse as she listened to her son's graphic de***********ion. The room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with tension as she fought to maintain her composure.
As Emma counted upwards, Ethan's eyelids flickered open, his gaze drifting lazily around the room before snagging on the exposed curve of her breasts. For a fleeting instant, their eyes met, and Emma's heart skipped a beat. She swiftly looked away, her hands busy gathering her notes, but the sensation lingered – a spark of awareness that left her skin tingling. Over the next few days, Emma found herself dressing differently around Ethan, opting for lower-cut tops that showcased her cleavage. It wasn't intentional, but somehow it became a habit, as if she was subconsciously seeking her son's attention. Another peculiarity arose – her lingerie kept vanishing. At first, Emma thought it was just misplaced laundry, but as the disappearances continued, she began to suspect otherwise. During their next therapy session, Emma decided to confront the issue under the guise of professional curiosity. "Ethan, I want to explore something with you," she said, her tone measured and calm. "Have you noticed anything strange happening at home lately?" Under hypnosis, Ethan's face smoothed out, his words pouring forth without hesitation. "You mean the panties, Mom? Yeah, I've been taking them." Emma's pencil froze, her heart racing with anticipation. "Why would you do that, Ethan?" she probed gently. His answer left her breathless:
"I jerk off with them, Mom. Thinking about you." The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Emma's face remained impassive, but her mind reeled with the confession. She scribbled furious notes, trying to maintain a semblance of professionalism. "I see," she murmured, her tone detached. "Can you elaborate on that?" Ethan's face twisted, his words spilling out in a rush. "I like to imagine you wearing them, Mom. I like to picture your smell on them, and it gets me hard." Emma's grip on her pencil tightened, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she needed to steer the conversation back to safer topics, but a part of her was drawn to this forbidden intimacy.
Emma's pencil scratched against the paper, her handwriting growing more erratic as she struggled to maintain her composure. Despite her better judgment, her curiosity got the better of her. "What exactly do you fantasize about, Ethan?" she asked, her words barely above a whisper. Under hypnosis, Ethan's face slackened, his words spilling out in a torrent of explicit detail. "I imagine you wearing my favorite pair of lace panties, Mom. The ones with the little pink bows on the sides. You're standing in front of me, and I can see the outline of your pussy through the fabric. I picture myself pulling them down, slowly, and seeing you naked." Emma's face burned, her mouth dry as she scribbled furious notes. "And then what?" she pressed on, her tone husky. Ethan's words poured forth, painting a vivid picture of his fantasy. "I imagine licking you, Mom. Tasting you. You're so wet and juicy, and I can feel your legs wrapping around my head as I eat you out." The room seemed to spin around Emma, her heart racing with excitement. She felt like she was drowning in the forbidden intimacy of the moment, yet she couldn't bring herself to stop him.
Emma's chair creaked as she shifted uncomfortably, her thighs squeezing together in a futile attempt to stem the growing ache. "More," she breathed, her pencil hovering above her pad. Ethan's words spilled out in a rush, painting an increasingly explicit picture of his fantasy. "I imagine you coming on my face, Mom. Your juices dripped down my chin, and I licked them clean..." Emma's face flamed, her body responding to the lurid imagery despite her best efforts. As she scribbled notes, she felt a sticky wetness between her legs, mortification washing over her as she realized she was dripping wet. Abruptly, she ended the session, her tone curt. "That's enough for today, Ethan." Later that evening, Emma found herself rummaging through the laundry basket, searching for the missing panties. Her fingers closed around the familiar fabric, and she pulled out the pair with the tiny pink bows – Ethan's favorite. Subconsciously, she wore them to get ready for her shower, leaving the bathroom door open as she prepared to step under the water. As Ethan walked by, Emma caught his gaze and deliberately pulled down her panties, just as he had fantasized. She stepped into the shower, the warm water enveloping her like a cocoon. Unbeknownst to Emma, Ethan sneaked into the bathroom, snatching the discarded panties from the floor. He retreated to his bedroom, the fabric clutched tightly in his fist as he stroked himself to climax.
As Emma guided Ethan into hypnosis, her mind still reeled from their previous session. She cleared her throat, adopting a professional tone. "Let's discuss your latest date with Sarah. What happened?" Ethan's face scrunched up, his words pouring out in a torrent of frustration. "We got into a fight, Mom. She thinks I've been too horny lately, and she suspects I'm interested in someone else." Emma's brow furrowed, concern etched on her face. "What makes her think that?" Ethan's face twisted, his words laced with desperation. "I don't know, but I've been so frustrated sexually lately. It's like nothing's satisfying me." Emma's heart twinged with guilt, her mind flashing back to their previous sessions. She hesitated, her pencil poised above her pad. "If your mother were to offer to help with your sexual needs," she ventured cautiously, "how would you feel about that?" Ethan's face scrunched up in distaste. "No way, Mom. That's gross. You're my mother." Emma nodded sympathetically, trying to reassure herself that she'd never cross that boundary. After the session, Emma made a conscious effort to dress more conservatively, hoping to quell Ethan's obvious frustrations. But as she caught glimpses of herself in mirrors throughout the day, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was trying to hide from her own desires.
Emma snapped out of her reverie, chiding herself for letting her thoughts stray into dangerous territory. She was a mother, after all, and it was her duty to provide the best care possible for her son. At their next session, Ethan slipped easily into hypnosis, his words spilling out in a rush. "Sarah dumped me, Mom. She thinks I'm too obsessed with sex." Emma's expression softened in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Ethan. That must be tough for you." His face twisted, his hands beginning to stroke himself through his pants. "It's awful, Mom. I just wish I could find some relief." Emma's pulse quickened as she watched her son's agitation grow. "Do you need help, Ethan?" she asked gently. His nod was almost imperceptible, but Emma understood. With a calm professionalism she didn't feel, she lowered his pants and watched as Ethan grasped his erection, beginning to masturbate in front of her. Emma's hands trembled slightly as she fought the urge to touch herself, her eyes fixed on the erotic spectacle unfolding before her. "Fantasize about Sarah," she instructed, trying to sound clinical. Ethan's strokes grew more frantic, but his face remained twisted in frustration. He couldn't seem to reach orgasm no matter how hard he tried. Emma's throat constricted as she leaned forward, her words barely above a whisper. "Fantasize about your mother." The change in Ethan was immediate. His strokes grew faster, more confident, and soon he was shooting ropes of cum onto the floor. Emma watched, mesmerized, as her son's face contorted in release.
Emma's panic was slight, but palpable, as she swiftly cleaned up the mess on the floor and tucked Ethan's flaccid penis back into his pants. She released him from hypnosis, her tone steady. "You're doing great, Ethan. Our next session will be Wednesday." The rest of the week passed in a blur, but Emma couldn't help noticing the change in her son. He seemed more confident, more carefree, and she wondered if their unorthodox therapy session had something to do with it. At their next appointment, Emma broached the subject delicately. "Ethan, can you tell me what's changed for you this past week? You seem happier." Ethan shrugged, his brow furrowing in thought. "I don't know, Mom. I guess therapy's just working or something." Emma's mind whirled with possibilities as she considered her next move. Perhaps what had happened last time was for the best. Maybe it was exactly what Ethan needed to overcome his frustrations. Steeling herself, Emma reached out and gently instructed Ethan to start touching himself once more. This time, instead of returning to her seat, she watched up close as he began to stroke himself through his pants. "Let's try something different," she said softly, pulling down his pants for him and helping him free his erection. As he started to masturbate, Emma gazed intently, her face inches from his groin. "Think about those other teenage girls you're interested in," she instructed, her tone detached. Ethan's strokes faltered, his face twisting in frustration once more.
Emma's words were barely audible, a soft whisper that sent a thrill through her own body. "Think about Mommy." Ethan's strokes grew more urgent, his face contorting in ecstasy. Emma knew what was coming, knew the exact moment when her son would lose control. And in a flash of panic, she realized there was about to be a mess. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed her son's cock, placing it between her lips just as he erupted into orgasm. The sudden burst of semen took her by surprise, but Emma swallowed instinctively, her mind reeling with the implications of what she'd just done. As Ethan slumped back in his chair, exhausted, Emma gently withdrew her mouth from his cock, her lips tingling with the taste of him.
Emma's senses reeled, overwhelmed by a tidal wave of lust and maternal love. She gazed at her son, her vision hazy, as she reached out to grab his still-erect cock. Without breaking eye contact, she slowly began to lick him clean, savoring the salty tang of his semen. The intimacy of the moment was almost unbearable, yet Emma couldn't tear herself away. Finally, reluctantly, she tucked him back into his pants, smoothing the fabric with a tender touch. As she resumed her seat, a sense of tranquility settled over both of them, like a warm blanket on a winter's night. For the rest of the week, they glowed with an inner radiance, their bond stronger than ever.