Study Buddy
by Pan
Chapter 4
“Five…”
My mother’s breast rose and fell as she breathed deeply.
“Four…”
Her mouth was slack, and her eyes were closed.
“Two…”
She didn’t show any sign of having noticed that I’d missed a number.
“One…”
Breathe in, breathe out.
I smiled.
Time to get to work.
Linda was avoiding eye-contact.
I hadn’t approached her about being hypnotized again; I’d wanted to see if she brought it up. She hadn’t said anything in over a week, not directly…but there were signs.
Her inability to look at me was a good one.
We were sitting around, shooting the shit, but she wouldn’t look at me.
Well, not at my face.
After waking her up a week ago, I’d realized that I hadn’t told her to forget what happened. Instead, I’d told her that it would enter her subconscious.
For seven days now, my best friend’s subconscious had contained an image of me jerking off in front of her.
Jerking off for her.
If I hadn’t been looking for it, I don’t think I would have noticed it, but it was there. Little glances at my crotch, whenever she thought I wasn’t looking.
I wondered if she’d thought about it when she’d masturbated. I wanted to ask her, so bad.
But more than that, I wanted her to ask me to hypnotize her.
“Okay Mom,” I said, speaking softly and calmly. “Your mind is nice and clear, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she replied gently.
“I want you to imagine a crackling fire. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” she repeated.
“It’s bright, but not blindingly so. It’s pleasant to look at. Look at the fire for me, will you?”
My mother nodded.
“It’s bright, active, and fascinating.”
Again, she nodded.
“That fire is your mind. Your mind is bright, it’s always active, and it’s fascinating. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” Mom responded softly.
“We’re staring at your mind, as it crackles and pops. It’s always so active, always so full of thoughts. Sometimes it feels like you can’t turn it off.”
Mom nodded emphatically. She had a lot of trouble sleeping, and she’d once told me it was because she felt like she had an overactive brain.
“The fire is made of two parts - the flame, and the fuel. The flame is your conscious mind - dancing around, flitting, so full of life and light.”
Another nod.
“The flame might be the most obvious part of a fire, but the fuel is what really…uh, fuels it.”
My mother didn’t blink.
“The fuel is your subconscious. Your subconscious feeds your thoughts; it’s what gives you stuff to think about, stuff you can reflect on.”
Mom nodded.
“I want you to picture the flame - that ever-moving, fascinating flame - starting to fade a little, okay?”
“Yes,” Mom responded. Her voice was a little more firm than I would have liked.
I wanted to make sure she was really in a trance before I got to work.
“The flame is dimming. I want you to put all other thoughts out of your mind, and focus your attention entirely on the flame.
She nodded.
“You’re not thinking about anything except the flame. You’re leaning in, focusing entirely on the flame. All other thoughts have left your mind…but since your mind is the flame, that means the flame is continuing to shrink.”
As I spoke, Mom’s face relaxed slightly.
“You’re only thinking about the flame. As the flame shrinks, you have less to think about, which makes the flame shrink even more.”
My mother nodded at my words, slowly. Calmly.
“Soon, you’re trying to focus on the flame, but it’s so small. It’s so small, because you aren’t thinking. You aren’t thinking, which makes it hard to focus on the flame. Your conscious mind is fading, dimming, burning out.”
Another nod.
“As the flame disappears, all that’s left is your subconscious mind. Do you know what your subconscious mind is?”
“Yes,” Mom responded. Her voice was thick and slow, drowsy.
It had worked!
“All that’s left is your subconscious mind. That means I’m talking directly with your subconscious mind, doesn’t it?”
“Yes…”
“Even though the flame is out, the fuel is still warm. Your subconscious mind is warm. It feels nice. Comfortable. Safe.”
Mom gave me a small nod.
“The embers of the fire are still glowing, but the glow is starting to fade. Let your body relax, as the flame totally fades away. With the fire out, it’s easy to relax, isn’t it?”
“Mmm…”
“Let yourself totally relax. You’re lying by the fire, warm, cosy. The fire is out, which means your conscious mind is asleep. You’re completely unconscious, except for your ears and mouth. All you can do is listen. Listen and speak. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Mom said. Her voice was clear, but her body looked totally relaxed, completely out of it.
I was hard as a rock.
“It’s just you and me, Mom. I helped you get to sleep; I helped you put that fire out. I helped you relax, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Without me, that fire would have continued to flicker forever. I helped you sleep, helped you get to this relaxed state. I’m here to help.”
“Mmm…”
“You trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You trust your son absolutely, don’t you?”
Mom hesitated.
“You trust that you’re going to be safe with me, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Amazing,” I said. “Now…do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
It was getting late. I knew that Linda had to go - she doesn’t have a strict, like, curfew…but her parents get crabby if she’s out too late.
And yet, she showed no signs of leaving.
She just chatted, avoided eye-contact, and occasionally glanced at my cock.
Finally, Mom knocked on my bedroom door.
“Come in!” I said immediately. The last thing I wanted was Mom thinking there was something up. If she got suspicious of Linda’s presence, that would make everything way harder.
“Linda!” she said, surprised.
My cock had been sort of hard all night, just from Linda’s subtle attention, but…fuck.
Seriously, my Mom has got to be the single hottest person in the world. She wasn’t even wearing anything particularly flattering - her work jeans, and one of her old painting T-shirts, covered with splashes of color.
Still, I was hard as a rock the moment she entered. Hopefully Linda wouldn’t work out what had moved me from half-mast to full.
“Hi, Mrs D,” Linda said.
“What are you still doing here?”
“What time is it?”
Maybe Linda was covering, maybe she’d genuinely lost track of the time. I mean, if you’re in the same room as someone you’ve been sexually obsessing over (as I hoped was the case), it’s not hard to lose a few hours.
“It’s late,” Mom said gently.
“Oh,” Linda said, picking up on the hint. “I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Of course,” I said. Mom smiled at the two of us.
Linda came in to give me a hug, glancing nervously at the door Mom had gently closed behind her.
“Hey, Terry…” she said nervously. “Maybe tomorrow…”
“Mmm?”
“Maybe you could hypnotize me again?”
“Sure thing,” I said casually, pretending not to notice my neighbor’s excited blush, or the way she glanced at my pants before leaving.
I was in.
“One…how do you feel, Linda?”
“Good,” she said breathily. “Good.”
“Remember, I’m your friend. You can be totally honest with me. How do you really feel?”
“Excited,” Linda admitted. “Turned on.”
“Why?”
“Being hypnotized makes me feel sexy.”
“Do you like being hypnotized by me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Linda hesitated.
“Remember,” I pushed again, “you can be totally honest with me.”
“Because,” she said reluctantly. “I think you’re sexy.”
Wow. It had only been a week and a half, and already I’d reversed my friend’s sexual attraction to me.
My cock hardened as I started to imagine what hypnosis would do to Mom.
“Do you want to talk about masturbation with me again?”
“Yes.”
“It’s fun and sexy to talk about masturbation, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Masturbation isn’t sex, is it?”
“No.”
“But it can still be sexy, can’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Is that why you’re attracted to me?”
Linda didn’t answer, and I realized my question had been a bit vague.
“Why are you attracted to me?”
There was a pause as my friend thought, but when she answered, it was firm and clear.
“Because you hypnotize me,” she said. “Because I trust you. Because I can talk to you about masturbation. And because when I touch myself, I imagine you touching yourself.”
Perfect.
“Do you want to watch me masturbate again?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to show me what it looks like when you masturbate?”
“Yes.”
“If I asked you to masturbate in front of me, what would you say?”
“Yes.”
I was tempted to wake her up right then and asked her…but I’d already come so far.
I wanted to see how much further I could push it.
“What if I asked you to touch my dick?”
There was a long pause, as Linda thought. Finally, she shook her head.
“Why not?”
“Because,” she said eventually. “We’re not dating.”
I was sure that was something I could fix, but I wanted to know more.
“Why does that matter?”
“We’re just friends,” she said.
“But I thought you were attracted to me.”
“Yes, but we’re just friends. I don’t want to do anything sexual with someone I’m not dating.”
Ah, that old drum.
“Masturbation isn’t sex, is it?”
“No.”
“So it would be okay to masturbate in front of me, even when we’re not dating, right?”
“Yes.”
“Masturbation is just touching yourself, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“It’s just a hand on a cock, or a hand on a pussy.”
Linda nodded.
“So putting your hand on my cock, that’s not really sex, is it? It’s just…mutual masturbation.”
There was a pause as Linda considered my words, but eventually she shook her head.
“Why not?”
“It’s sexual,” she said. “It’s pleasuring someone else.”
I could have just woken her up and asked her out. She definitely would have said yes. I bet I could have been fucking her by the weekend.
But if I couldn’t get Linda to play with my dick, there was no way I was going to convince Mom to.
No, I needed to persuade her to jerk me off as a friend.
That was the only way I’d know for sure I could get Mom to fuck me as a son.
“If I were to masturbate in front of you, you’d like it, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So it would be bringing you pleasure?”
After a short pause, Linda agreed.
“So if we were to masturbate in front of each other, we’d be pleasuring each other.”
“Yes.”
“But it wouldn’t be sex.”
Linda shook her head.
“So pleasuring each other isn’t sex. What makes touching someone else different?”
Again, a long pause. And again, Linda had an answer.
“It’s the contact,” she said. “Touching your dick would be physical contact. That’s sexual.”
“What if we held hands while we masturbated? Would that be sex?”
“No, but…-“
I interrupted. I didn’t want her to get a train of thought going.
“What if we kissed? Would that be sex?”
“No, but…-“
“What if we kissed while we masturbated? Would that be sex?”
Linda thought about it for a long while, before answering.
“No. But…-“
“So touching isn’t sex. Is it?”
“No, but..-“
“Touching isn’t sex.”
Linda nodded.
“So why would touching my dick be sex?”
“Because,” Linda said. “It’s your dick. I’d be touching it to make you cum.”
“If we masturbated in front of each other, wouldn’t we be trying to make each other cum?”
“No,” Linda responded, her brow furrowed. “We’d be touching ourselves to cum. The other person would just be…someone to watch.”
“Okay,” I said, after a few seconds of thought. “So it would be sex because you were trying to make me cum?”
“Yes.”
“So what if you just touched me but it wasn’t to make me cum. Would it be sex then?”
“No,” Linda said, after thinking about it for a moment. “No, that wouldn’t be sex.”
“Great,” I said. “What if I asked you to touch my dick, just to see how it felt? Would you do that?”
“Yes,” Linda said, without hesitation.
“What if I got you to stroke it just to…to learn what that felt like. Would you do that?”
“Yes,” she said again.
“And what if while you were doing that, I accidentally came. Would that be sex?”
“No,” Linda said, her eyes closed, her breathing heavy. “I guess it wouldn’t.”