My son Frank sits sprawled on our sofa in the rec room. He is a clean-cut, strapping lad of seventeen. It is nine-thirty on a school night, and he is telling his Mom all about his day. ALL about his day.

His voice is a low monotone, with several pauses and re-starts to his description. His head wobbles just a bit from side to side as it lolls on the back of the sofa. His halting voice drones on and on.

"Then I turned in my pa-a-a..paper in Geography class," he murmurs. "I typed it over and... and... added two more maps." A slow smile twitches his cute lips. "I think it will get a good mark. It's longer than Mr. Melkin asked for, and... annnndd..."

His head rolls sideways once again, and his strong chest rises as he takes yet another deep, deep, relaxing breath. I hear him sigh, and feel a bit excited as I watch his closed eyelids. Beneath them, I can see that Frank's eyeballs are roaming about, just as if he's seeing the classroom. But his limbs do not move at all. Almost as if there were heavy, heavy weights pulling them down into his comfortable, relaxing cushion. Almost as if his muscles were so soft and relaxed that even if he HAD wanted to try to move them, they would soften, relax and weigh even more.

I need to prompt my dear son gently, oh, so quietly. "And you copied down the next week's reading right after class, Frankie," I say. "And you're going to be sooo pleased when you open that textbook. There will be exciting stuff that you want to know about. It makes learning so much fun for you... you LOVE to learn new things. You WANT to learn new things, you always have, haven't you?"

Frank sighs again, and immediately replies. "Yes, Mom, I love to learn and study hard."

This is only partially true, though Frank now believes it with all his being! I see how he smiles again, how his lovely relaxed leg muscles stretch ever so slightly out from under the terry cloth robe he is wearing. He is in great physical condition, and soon he will tell me about his tryout for Track and Field.

A year or so ago, moving to a new city with a single parent, Frank found it hard to make friends all over again, and his ability to concentrate was suffering. I knew I couldn't let him jeopardize his future just because he was confused. Nearly eighteen now, my boy needed coaching, and guidance from his Mom.

Now when Frank was very small, I had found him to be easily entranced.

He had been a fussy nurser, and our inability to relax him and get him to sleep regularly kept his Dad and I tense and anxious. But my psychological training eventually broke through, and with associative lights and vocal crooning, I eventually had a Frank suckling his Mom in strong contentment.

As he grew, up until he was seven or eight, our "good night" rituals became comfortable habits for both of us. Of course, nursing my baby stopped at the natural age! I was no pervert. Then. Most nights I would just stand or sit by his bed, and as he felt his loving Mommy's touch, and heard her voice telling him that it was time for deep, deep safe sleep, he was not at all hesitant to stare right up into my gaze, and let the incredible, delicious heaviness load his own eyelids until they sank down, down down on his cheeks, and he floated and swam or flew in my hypnotic fantasy for a few moments before I sent my darling right into deep sleep.

Now we have reached lunch period of his verbal diary, and Frank is telling me about Beth again. She plays clarinet in Frank's school band, and they have become friends. Beth has been over, and I have seen a very petite but strong seventeen-year-old, with nonetheless a very mature figure. Now, I'm no simpleton. Frank is sexually interested in girls, just like any hot-blooded teenaged boy. He's quite personable, and not uncomfortable talking with girls. I've helped him with that, too! But he has to be careful, and as he says that Beth likes to stop at kissing, or at least light "petting," Frank is just, well, horny most of the time! Duh!

"And what did Beth wear today, dear?" I now prompt my son.

"Um, she had that short plaid skirt on, and a dark blue... blue shirt..."

"A blouse?"

"Yeah, but it only has four buttons, kind of low down, so guys can walk by her chair and see down her chest. Boy, that pisses me off, but I like to do it too, and I wish... mmmmm..."

At this point, I see that, underneath the bathrobe, Frank's penis is beginning to twitch. This often happens in our little sessions. In a few more moments, since he's not wearing underpants, I expect that his member will have pushed through the folds of his robe and be poking saucily right up at Mom! I feel more sensations in my own sex now, but I must show self discipline.

"Frank," I interrupt his digression, "give Mom a status report on your trance. What depth are you now, dear?"

His body relaxes again. "Umm... seven... no... ummm... six."

"Very, very good, Frankie," I instruct him. "Right now, as you listen to Mom, you're going to sink back down towards a nine. Sinking towards nine. Floating up and sinking down on my voice. When you reach level nine, you won't be able to keep thinking of Beth, or of anything except how light your left arm feels. As you sink... very, very good, Frank, that's right."

Because my son's arm has already wobbled up from his side and is waving off to one side of his shoulder. His heavy, heavy head has turned a bit as if he is watching his body respond to my suggestions. That gorgeous body is responding with very practiced efficiency, habituated by many, many sessions like this. I LOVE to hypnotize my boy!

"And your eyes can open, and you can watch your arm float under my control. All you know, or care, or think about is my control over your body, Frankie. Your eyelids are so heavy and you might want to try to lower your arm, but just watch what happens when you try and try. Tell Mom."

His eyes slowly and blearily ease open a bit, and Frankie stares obediently at his left hand. If wavers just a bit, and seems to bob around as if it were floating. Which of course, it is, floating on a sea of unbreakable hypnotic manipulation.

"I just... can't move my arm, Mom," comes the deep droning voice, and I am not surprised by quite a sharp reaction in my pussy. I almost move my hand to cover my panties, because I am sure, yes, I am sure that if Frankie could turn his his head, he would see the sheen of my moisture penetrating the sheer fabric of my underwear. But, of course, his eyes will not move anywhere right now until I suggest so. And my reward for being such a good, attentive Mom will come soon. So I just let my thighs tremble a bit, and squeeze them together over the inflamed area, and continue.

Let me tell you a bit about my rewards. After I lost my husband, I went through my own horror, and never got comfortable making close male friends since. Not to this point, anyhow. I won't go into more detail. I just masturbated, although even that was much more sporadic and less satisfying. Until Frank came "of age."

Of course, I do the laundry, and, like most moms, there came a time when, upon Frank's bed sheets appeared telltale spots. Very soon after, these disappeared, and I "knew" that my boy had begun to masturbate himself. Besides the poignancy of that stage of a parent's life, came a bit of an ethical dilemma. I was, probably naturally, turned on a bit as I found myself imagining what Frank's adult "equipment" looked like... and how it might "feel"! I thought I'd be able, like most moms, just to leave it all speculative, and yet my wishes to know more became more like an obsession!

I began to do laundry a bit more often, hoping for more signs. There WERE indications of night emissions, and once in a while, I could see that they were VERY copious. But more often, there was only that lingering faint aroma of the teenaged effluvia of sweat and semen, around Frank's bedroom.

Well, I wondered over and over, what DID my boy's penis look like now? I had enjoyed washing and powdering my little boy's bottom after changing diapers. Especially if he was drowsy after feeding, it would amuse me to flip the little "man" around, and tickle him underneath his tiny testicles.

Especially if he was sleepy and compliant. Especially then.

"Very good, Frankie. Now, as I make your arm and eyes so heavy again, you will relax completely, and tell me all about your afternoon." His arm immediately flops to his side, his eyes close again, and Frank begins telling me about Chem Lab and Band practice... and Beth... again.

Being habituated to his Mom putting him to sleep made it very easy, even after several years, for me to train him again. I began by watching him during occasional late evening conversations we would have. Though Frank had begun growing away, like every little boy must eventually, his surly demeanor was only a surface role he was trying out. Under the guise of giving him parental "lectures" on the importance of school, etc., I would observe him closely as I modulated my voice to a soft, dreamy drone. Soon, though he never acknowledged it, or called me "boring" to my face, Frank was obviously letting his mind wander. His eyes might begin blinking and drooping a bit as, subconsciously, he was letting himself regress into passivity.

One night about two years ago, after a quiet meal in his room (we often dined apart in the house), I knocked as usual, and asked Frank to come into the den.

"I've found some old photos and want to show them to you," I said. With a bit of grumbling, my boy followed me into the den, where I had lowered the lights except for one table lamp, where I had collected some old baby snapshots. I did not include any photos of Frank's Dad or me, these were just pictures of Frank and his friends, or posed shots by himself, even pictures of old neighborhoods... really anything to give me enough dullness yet a time-consuming selection of glossy photos.

"I was remembering some of these friends you had, and want to label the photos for you when you get older," I told him, and, not letting him hold them himself, asked him to recall places and names and situations. If he couldn't recall anything, I just murmured that we'd try again, and rotated the snap to the bottom of the stack.

Frank soon became bored and passive, and I aided his reverie by lowering my voice gradually, and becoming very repetitive in my motions.

"Here's someone," I'd say, and slowly uncover the next photo. I could tell that the lamplight would reflect from the glossy surface up into our eyes. "Who's that?"

"That's another one of Benny," he'd answer, or, more often, "I dunno."

I didn't encourage him to "try harder," I wanted Frank to get as passive as possible. After twice through the "don't knows," I moved smoothly into my next phase. I began just mechanically moving through them, saying, "I find that when I relax and just let my mind wander, I'll remember more about a picture. I just shuffle through them, not even caring whether they make sense right now. I like to relax and just kind of let my mind wander away a bit."

One photo after another glistened up into Frank's eyes, and after one or two buried memories were uprooted, we just looked at the stack together as I began almost crooning at my boy. I positioned myself behind him, so he wouldn't notice my face, but where I could see a bit of his eye movements.

"Sometimes, when I want to remember something really really pleasant," I droned, shuffling slowly, evenly, mechanically, "I have to just let my whole mind slow down, at least that's what it feels like to me. So I move the picture so it reflects the light, and the flash is so soothing, that it helps me reflect more. So one reflection helps the other reflection, and it's kind of a reflex action. One reflects..."

Another photo.

"And reflects help reflection..."

Another photo.

"...into a reflex, and you know, I found myself remembering something very interesting about me when I was a new Mom. I found that as I reflected..."

More cards flashing into Frank's eyes. He was motionless, and he didn't seem to want to interject or stop my droning, soothing voice. He was in a hypnoidal state, ready to accept more guidance.

"...I'm not really think...ing any more, just letting the light re...flect and help me re...flect, and the more it re...flects... the more I remem...ber about putting my little baby to sleep. At the beginning, I re...flect...ed..."

Another flash, introducing the idea of sleep. Frank was staring at my hands as they moved so regularly, so evenly and softly, shuffling through the series of shiny reflections.

"And I remem...ber singing and humming and there were some re...flec...tions... in our quiet room long long ago. I could see how my little Frank was so tired, and how much he wanted to sleep. Mothers singgg... and croon... and hummmmmm to their babies, and soon your little eyes would start to blink. And soooon your eyes would begin to blink, and sink lower and lowerrrr... and I knew that Mommy was putting her lit...tle boy to sleep at last. And I re...flect...ed and remem...bered how you love to hear Mom's voice sooo late, after your tummy is full, and you are sooo warm and safe, and wanted to go to sleep. As you listennnned to my voice sooooothinggg you. My voice is a lulllabye, and every re..flec...tion remindingggg you that it is important to watch the re...flec...tions make you get relaxed. And relax and lis...ten...to my voice, and...

"Some...thinggg....

"Is hap...pen...ning nowww... to sleepy heavy eyes. Growing soooo relaxed and sleeepy, and listenning so sofffftly and the reflections are so heavvy, and you are jussst happy to listennnn to Mommy tell you about your reflections and your heavy eyes want sooo much to close... I can see that you want your Mommy to put you to sleep right nowwwww... and Mommy will help her little Frankie to sleeeep right nowwww."

Franks head was so heavy, it just sank forward, and I helped ease it down onto the little table where I saw my boy's eyes tightly shut, and listened for just a moment to the shallow breathing of the lightly hypnotized. I didn't want to spoil this delicious moment, so I began deepening his trance immediately.

"Let Mom's soft, soothing voice put you to sleep now," I said. "Although you are asleep now, you can still see the shiny lights, and you can still listen to me and go deeper and deeper and deeper."

I was conditioning Frank further with lights. Holding a shiny coaster from nearby, I was slowly letting a reflection from the lamp play back and forth over his eyelids.

"Each reflection pulling you deeper into sleep," I said. "I see that you love your Mommy to put you into deep deep sleep. Just like you have for years and years and years."

With each slow word, another play of the light gently over my dear boy's eyelids. His breathing, a bit shallow at first, was now deep and regular.

"While you sleep deeper and deeper, you can listen and dream deeply with each reflection. Like a slow heartbeat. It doesn't mean anything special, just a delicious voice, just a delicious hypnotic light, going back. And forth. And back. And forth. Making you sleep, Frankie. Back... you go, listening. And forth... you go, deep asleep and listening to a dream. Back... deeper. And forth... So deep now that you can pay close attention even in your deepest sleepy trance. You are falling into a deep dreeeeamy trance now. And each flash. Of the light. Sinks you down, down, down, ready to go to bed now without even waking up. Ready to just sleepily get right into your bed now. Mom will help her sleepy sleepy baby just take my hand and walk into your comfy, dark, bedroom and sink your sleepy head down down down into your soft pillow and listen to your lullabye. When you're ready to sleepwalk to bed, just raise your head. And you want to sleep, Frank, just sleep and keep your eyes s hut. They are so relaxed and asleep, your eyes don't even want to open, do they?"

I saw my son's head move slightly.

"Just sit up, Frank, and Mommy will make you sleep even deeper. Sit right up now while you dream."

Frank sat up slowly, with great effort, and even a little moan of protest. My eye was attracted to a couple wisps of hair growing over his ear, and then to the tender skin just behind his ear, and I was surprised... back then... that I wanted to breathe into his ear and move those little hairs! I realize now that it was more than a mother's affection with me for Frank. I was projecting some of my playful erotic nature on the nearest male. One whom I knew well. AND, most importantly, one who, apparantly, was controllable and safe. Drowsy and sleepy. Hypnotized, in fact. The irresistible glow of his Mom's light playing back and forth into his mind. Quieting and soothing him. Hypnotizing him.

"That's all right, Frank," I instructed him, and now I remember leaning closer to my boy's face, lowering my voice to little more than a throaty whisper. Watching those little hairs, even while I watched his eyelids carefully. "You are going so deeply into a trance that you don't have to worry about waking up. In fact, I'll help you go deep. I'll help put you to sleep. I'll make the nice light put you soooo deeeeep that your body can move around while you just go deeper and deeper into a hypnotic trance. You love the trance, and when you let Mommy dream you into bed, she will explain allll about it to you. Here comes the light now, right into your mind, Frank. Hypnotizing you. Putting you into a deep trance just like it allllways has. A hypnotic lullabye. While you sleep, watch the glow of the light. It will shine three times, and then you will follow Mommy's instructions. Let me count as you wait to be hypnotized. I will count, the light will glow, and down in hypnosis you will go. The light will glow, you can't even think, as down down down in the trance you sink. One. Watching. Wanting Mommy to hypnotize you."

Under his closed lids, Frankie's eyeballs were drifting around. His head wobbly on his neck.

"Two. The next light will let you be hypnotized completely. Here it comes. When you see it, you will be completely in a deep trance, ready to cooperate with Mommy. Threeeeeeeee."

Frank's head wobbled again, and sank forward onto his chest.

"What a wonderful trance you are in now," I continued. "You remember how you love giving in to Mommy's voice. You remember how you love to be put to sleep. And now, just without waking at all... that's so natural... just take Mommy's hand, and she will help you go to bed."

Slowly, we stood up, and, speaking continually, I guided my boy back to his bed. Left his clothes on, just had him slowly lie back into his soft, warm trance. That first night, I stressed hypnotic cooperation, amnesia, and as many other phenomena as I could produce.

We watched a sparkling bauble that was sooooo sooothing and restful that Frank just KNEW he was going to sleep. Over and over we practiced how heavy Frank's eyes felt, just seeing that little bauble dangling from Mom's fingers.

We found that my boy would just forget everything and relaaaaxxxx when I stood behind his chair and circled my fingertips over and over his temples. His head would very soon move about loosely at Mom's direction... side-to-side, then up and down, up... and right downnnnn into hypnotic slumber. Over and over, practicing falling deep into my influence each time.

We learned that Frank remembered how to look into his Mother's eyes... and how he loved to be open to her voice and do whatever she asked of him! We relearned how his mother's soothing voice and certain words or little songs, would immediately make him feel very cooperative, or very sleepy and drowsy, and ready for more learning. Little rhymes that a little boy learned as a child, remember? and remember for his whole life, and his little boy voice remembered and parroted back to me:

"Mommy knows how to hypmatize,

Hypmatize into my eyes,

I don't want to look away,

I want to obey, I must obey.

I feel so good when I obey,

I love to be hypmatized today!"

SO cute, to hear my "little" boy trying as hard as he could to say that long word!

Over ensuing nights, beyond simply reconditioning my son's cooperation, I began having Frank read aloud to himself from short, self-affirming articles, and parts of books that stressed education, system, and the pleasures of self-discipline. Watching him, realizing just how suggestible my growing young man had become, and certainly without PLANNING it, I found myself wondering again about his budding sexuality. His habits. How clean DID he keep himself? He had been circumcised as an infant. His father had not been. How did Frank LOOK? I would come close to his hips after putting him to sleep, and inhale around his underwear.

Every mom, I'm sure, has examined her children's private parts. Many mom's feel a special, playful sort of affection for their sons' little "equipment." Don't they.

It began to sort of run together below my conscious awareness... remembering his diaper-changing and powdering, his Mom toying with her little baby's genitals, my curiosity, and my... excitement... at the CONTROL I had over this young man! I found myself "just looking in" on his sleeping form more and more often. Eyeing, assessing Frank's masculinity like any woman might do, if she were safe from embarassment or discovery.

His briefs certainly did look "full!" How did my little man "get himself off?" Is he ashamed and fearful about being "caught?" Hmmm, I soon reflected, sexuality is normal, rewarding and important to a person's well-being. What if his Mom could help her boy there too? Only at a deep, unconscious level, of course. Only if her boy was unaware that Mom was... was...

Frank drones on about his afternoon. He's not embarrassed to tell me about the school bus ride, though I'm not listening, I've heard it many, many times before. No, actually, I'm thinking about sex just now. My sex is truly aching now. I think that for many months, since I found about about Frank's maturing body (and seen that wonderful cock of his!) I must have "tranced" myself a little bit, heading towards a moment like this. When a mother's satisfaction at her baby's contented sleep (after a stimulating suckle) morphed into a desire to send him to dreamland, into some sort of exercise in parental "control", to the awareness that hypnotizing someone in order to control them was in fact, exciting to me. Sexually exciting.

And as Frank's voice talks with complete candor about is attraction to Beth, his bathrobe is again stirring. It's time. I am leaning forward, wearing only a shiny, thin brassiere and panties.

"Very good, Frank," I now tell my son, "Just stop now and think about something for me." His drone ceases immediately. "You were talking about Beth's cute body, and how you like to look down at her. How your eyes are attracted to her breasts. You'd like to see her breasts, wouldn't you."

"Yes."

"You're imagining how they would look if she let you see them, maybe even touch them?"

"Yes. I get such a woodie just... mmm..."

"Just thinking about soft, yielding breasts. Yes, Frank. I know. Mothers who breast-feed their babies know about boys' love for the breast. There's the delicious warm milk squirting into your mouth, and the drowsy satisfaction of being nice and full."

My hands reach down to the terrycloth and pull it aside. There, nestled between his trim thighs, is the most succulent, deliciously plump cock I've ever seen. Frank's hands offer no resistance, indeed, he hasn't noticed his exposure to me. But as I continue programming his open, willing mind with increasingly lubricious promptings, his body is responding! That penis is bolt upright, and flushed pink with the blood imprisoned within his shaft. Up and down its length stand out the bluish veins in stark relief to the incredibly soft pink skin. And the cockhead! It is oriented so cutely, just a bit off-center, and as I arouse my son I can observe each involuntary internal clutch and tightening cause it to swell, engorge and empurple further.

"Yes, Frank, I know all about breasts and how fascinating you find them. You would eat your fill, then you might even play with my breasts with your mouth and lips. You were such a good nurser, and sucked sooo deeply and insistently on my nipples, even after you were through eating sometimes. And other times, you remember how you would nestle in my lap, and reach up to pull my robe open, just so you could breathe that magical aroma of your Mommy's breasts. Your eyes would get big and wide as they looked up at the soft curves of the breast, Frank. My bosoms looked so big and soft and curving and delicious, didn't they? Do you remember how you would stare at them?"

"Oh, yeah," came the groaning rejoinder from my teenager, his fat prick now twitching repeatedly, and his face, eyes still closed, was turning back and forth as his regressive abilities (such a talented boy, my Frank!) helped him believe every word his horny hypnotist was telling him.

"Yes, I know you've felt sexual stirrings about women, and you've been leaking juice just like every boy does, and you've been discovering how much tension you can build up, and then release. Tension in your Organ is just so natural for boys and men like you, Frank," I instruct him. "Your sex wants to be satisfied. Your organ wants to be touched and teased and then released! I understand completely, and it's fine with Mommy.

"Just like being sooo hungry for Mom's heavy, soft curvy bosoms, and her delicious nipples so big and fat in your lips and thennnn..." I murmured, my face very close to my subject's ear,"thenn the release of delicious millllk into your mouth, and all your tensions going away as Mommy hypnotized you again and again and againnnn... uhhh..."

While I have a little private orgasm right now, I think about what's coming tonight for me; the moment when I'm going to have my son, my dear Frankie, plunge that great dick way up inside my cunt, and fuck me, and fuck me and fuck me senseless. Soon.

I finally decided that I just HAD to see him. ALL of him. During a session, Frank already under, I was looking around at Frank's toys, like his planetarium device that makes stars shine on his bedroom wall and ceiling. Teaching him that when we watched the stars on his ceiling, he would learn about the "Tunnel Nebula".

"The Tunnel Nebula is a special, secret place way out in the universe," I told him. He lay on his back, staring blankly up at his ceiling. I remember this was the first time I felt secure enough that this was something we BOTH wanted to happen, that I could see his nakedness. Frank had quickly learned to go exceptionally deep into trance for me.

"Special secret place," he echoed obediently.

"The Tunnel Nebula is one of the most hypnotic places in the whole Universe, Frank. When we watch your stars together, you will hear me mention the Tunnel Nebula. This is your cue to go deep into hypnosis."

"Deep into hypnosis."

"Here's how you know I am hypnotizing you with the Tunnel Nebula, darling," I continued. When you hear my voice, and only my voice talking about it, you will very shortly see a giant galaxy of stars on your ceiling or wall. It is a special spiral galaxy, Frank. While all the other stars are motionless, the Tunnel Nebula is spinning. Spinning just like the most irresistible spiral that a hypnotist uses to control her subject. Spinning. Spinning. Tell me now when you can see the big spinning spiral stars on your ceiling. Point right at it as you see it spinning, Frankie."

In a moment, his eyes widened. "Ohhh... there it is!" he intoned, a little breathlessly, and his limp arm straightened to point off into a corner of his ceiling. "Spinning."

"And what is the spinning spiral of stars doing to you, dear?"

"Hyp... hypnotizing me?"

"Of course it is. Let's see how hypnotic it is. I want you try to move your eyes out from the hypnotic spiral. You'll find that they don't want to leave the swirling spiral. You'll find that they want to stare into my trance, and that those eyes don't even want to obey you! Try now dear, and the harder you wish they would move, the more you realize that they LIKE staring at the swirling spiral. That's right, you can turn your head, but your eyes gaze right in and you know that you are under Mommy's control. Drifting and floating up into the Tunnel Nebula.

"So good. Good boy, now relax and stop trying, it's impossible to disobey my voice, isn't it? Why don't you tell me how hard it is to resist the Tunnel Nebula..."

"Ahhh..." sighed Frank, and his head became placid and motionless again. His hand was still uplifted, forgotten, pointing at his imaginary hypnospiral. "I just can't resist the Tunnel Nebula. When I see it, I go deep into a trance. Deeeep into a trannnce... deeper and deeper, Mommy. I just HAVE to obey you, Mommy. Obeyyyy Mommmmmyyy... Obeyyy.... Mommmmmyyyy..."

"All right, Frank," I stopped him, deciding to take the plunge. I wanted to see more of my adolescent son's beautiful manliness. I had missed seeing and touching a man since my husband died. "While you are staring tonight, your mind is completely fascinated by the Tunnel Nebula. Your body is going to respond to my commands and your mind will not take the slightest notice. You are flying far, far away in the Spiral Nebula until Mommy brings you back, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"I will now talk just to FrankieBody. That's your body alone. FrankieBody, your arms are soft, limp, heavy and helpless."

Instantly, the pointing hand dropped heavily to my son's side.

"FrankieBody, you are deep asleep, and very soon you are going experience a wet dream. You don't want to move arms or legs, they are heavy and asleep. You will shortly respond to wonderful feelings of arousal. Let it happen, FrankieBody. Let it happen... nowwwww."

I sat back, breathing very heavily myself, and watched. Frank was in his pajamas as usual, but lay atop his covers, eyes still staring obediently at his spiral, blinking slowly and heavily.

Then I heard an indrawn breath, then another. I didn't want to turn on the ceiling light, so all I could do was open his hall door wider so more light could get in. By the time I got back to kneel at his bedside, Frank was displaying a definite tent in his PJ trousers. His breathing was irregular, and I watched as his hips began to clench!

I admit, I had no clue as to how long this "dream" would last, but I was startled by the rapidity of the response! Within a minute or two of my instructions, "FrankieBody" was poking right up, confined from a full upstanding erection by the tautness of his pajama crotch. I realized then that I wanted to cum, but before I could say or do anything to protract the experience, I heard a loud, a VERY loud grunting sound. This repeated several times, and, though the fabric was distended to its limit and could not move further, I could see quickly that my son was in the throes of orgasm. His abdominal muscles had clenched, and his limbs stiffened. Then, the glisten of semen permeated the cloth, and began dripping down onto his leg. Two, four, five or six pumping gestures in all, his whole trouser front was now shiny with his spendings!

I couldn't stay there, I had to relieve myself. I ran down the hall, threw off my clothes, and VERY quickly masturbated to a violent and satisfying climax within a minute! Shaken and breathless, I eventually returned to his room. All was the same, Frank had not moved in the slightest. I felt another pussy twinge at the full realization that I was, to some degree at least, in control of my dear son's sexuality! His erection had already subsided, and his PJ front was a soggy mess. I leaned forward, and inhaled his secretions. Not unpleasant, a bit like the seaside at low tide perhaps... but not unpleasant.

Well. That bridge was crossed. I had better clean him up. (I just HAD to see it!) I told Frank to stay in his Nebula, and for his body to lift his hips off the bed. I pulled the sodden PJs down, and there it was. Sure, what is so different or special about a man's dick? Nothing! But what about your SON'S dick?

It was all stuck with dried semen. Without thinking much I hurried back with a warm soapy washcloth. Without thinking, I draped it over the exposed genitals. Without thinking I washed and rinsed my very grown up baby Frankie's privates. Patted them dry. Sat back and feasted my eyes on him. He is REALLY male, that was sure! His flaccidness just lay there in the damp pubic hairs. Better dry him off just a little more. Good and dry. What about a little powder? Sure, just like his baby days! Here was some. Sprinkle it on. Moved his legs apart a bit. Boy, a grown young man's legs are heavy, when he's not helping! Wider. Oh, look at those nuts! Not very hairy at all! Spread the legs more.

Finally Frank lay, head tossed to one side from his recent climactic surge, legs splayed wide apart. My hands just automatically smoothed that talcum down between them, and very shortly, his Mom was toying the dry, silken skin of Frankie's cock and balls, patting, rubbing and tickling, telling her hypnotized FrankieBody to enjoy feeling my soothing, exciting, stimulating touches allll over him.

Then, quite soon that night, the young, vital loins began their automatic answer. I felt first that there was a little more to hold. To tease. Then more, and more, and firmer too! Up and up into my hand grew his little soft prick, and I was beginning to masturbate my son... no... I was only cleaning and powdering my boy... no... my hand had circled his stiffening, and I leaned my head down next to my son's hips, feeling the tautening of his ball sack, seeing my fingertips toy hypnotically, drawing the hot blood up, up, up the shaft, turning its mushroom head into a fat, plump slippery bulb. I tested the erection, pulling it down, letting it spring back up. Tickling behind his nuts. Slipping a powered fingertip down that crevice behind his fat nuts. His nuts.

It was only later that I remembered talking to those beautiful genitals. Telling Frank how I controlled it. How ready it was to obey me. How his testes were swelling again with hot, hot boy come, and how much his body wanted me to control it. How it was even better than the wet dream. How I could see liquid beginning to seep out over the powdery glans, how the little hole was beginning to be soooo sensitive, how my fingers knew just EXACTLY how stiff and horny he felt, just EXACTLY how ready he was becoming.

I myself had now forgotten everything in the moment. I was a Cock-Teaser now. My masterful fingers and voice were in complete command of a thick, firm, silken-fleshed stalk of tension. I honed my skills, actually standing up and walking to another room once or twice to finger myself a bit, then returning to where my target poked straight upwards, jerking gently with a pulse, then swelling and stiffening as Frank obediently clenched himself. My fingertips swirling round, hovering over the purple bulb, feeling it jerk up into closer contact with my palm. Listening to his breath rasp and catch with each hypnotic evocation of my control.

Of course. It is INCEST. It is SEXUAL EXPLOITATION of a child. MY child! In some eyes, I am a monster. All I can do is tell myself that my mental control over Frank is so good that at least HE will never remember these events as he grows fully into manhood. Manhood. Oh, God, there's that cock. That COCK is so ready to be commanded, teased, rewarded, treasured!

I feel a trickle down one leg. It's hot. I know, I KNOW I'm horny, dammit! Now I'm leaking juices right out of my hot crotch! All my membranes are inflamed, my breasts ache... my breasts...

"Frank," I husk at him, "In a moment I will tell you to open your eyes. When you do, you will see the most delightful and teasing sight right in front of you. It's a warm sexy dream, baby, just sit there in a deep trance and let's talk about it. Your eyes are opening. There. Look right here now.'

His eyes opened, and his jaw dropped. I almost chuckle in the midst of the arousal! My breasts, encased in sheer Victoria's Secret pale blue, are hanging provocatively just a few feet from my boy's staring eyes.

"What are you staring so helplessly at, Frank?" I whisper.

"Your big, soft, heavy bosoms," he replies immediately, and I feel another surge of moisture down from my panties! Just the way I had taught him to say! "I see your soft, curvy bosoms, Mommy."

"Go on."

"They are so beautiful and full, they're exciting too."

"Of course. Now watch as my hands begin to move around them. Watch my hands and fingers circle round and round. Every time you see Mommy hold her bosoms and move her fingers you will stare and fall into trance. Just like you are now. You want only to be commanded, Frankie, isn't that so?"

"Ohh, yes, Mommmyyy..."

"And if I hold my breasts just a little closer, your mind will become empty and dreamy, Frankie," I continue, "and your eyes will just watch, and your body will respond... FrankieBody will respond. Empty mind. Full body. You know about your horny dreams, FrankieBody, and you will have a big, exciting one in just a few moments. Empty mind." My fingers flicker round my nipples, now big as acorns and emitting sharp shocks to my cunt. "Full of stiffness and so erect. Wonderfully pleasantly erect and stiff. Stiffer and stiffer. You are getting even more stiff and erect. You are ready to be touched and stroked. You will not ejaculate until my voice commands. You are full of stiff, erect pleasure as you watch me play with my bosoms. Say 'Mommy's bosoms' over and over and stare at them."

"Mommmmy'sss bossssommmmsss... Mommmmy'ssss bossssommmms..." He repeated, and I kneel right in front of his face, and brush the underside of my horny tits right over his cheek. I tease his motionless face with the hard, hard lumps of my nipples, dragging them so close to his blankly obedient mouth as it repeats a horny mantra. I am cumming, right now, a real climax, and I haven't even... even... mounted my son yet... oGOD, I can't stop it, my cunt is drooling, I have to fuck him now, the tits can wait, I want to gush all over his dick!

He's perfectly positioned, stretched back on the sofa so I can straddle over him... shit, I have to get off again and remove my panties, there! Just hold myself over that irresistible organ, that stiff, iron-hard rigid delight, while FrankieBody just babbles into my boobies. I begin swaying my shoulders, so my tits bounce back and forth on either cheek.

"Now talk about sticking up... uhhh... about sticking up into Mommy's cunt, FrankieBody! You are going to slide... uhh, uhhmm... right up inside while Mommy hypnotizes you with her hot hot cunt. Hot cunt, say it, I command you!" My voice is raw and husky, and my juices continue to drip down on my son's crotch. Down I finally slide, and once he's got just that giant bulb between my labia, I can't hold off, and just plunge up and down, my tits patting his dear face and his voice talking about fucking Mommy's hot hot hot hotcunt. Cunt. Cunnnnt. Hotcunthotcunthotcunthotcuntcuntcuntcuntcunnnnnnnn....

Cunnnnn....

Cummmmmmmmmmmmming....

Cu... Cu... Cummminggg all over that pole of hot young flesh. I can't even keep my body poised in the air, I want him so deep, so deep. I cum some more, imagining how I will have him mount me from behind, how I'll kneel in front of him, thrusting my distended vulva back towards his dick, his dickdickdickdickdick it'll jam itself WAY up inside me, or I'll cause him to rub it HARD right over my clit over and overandoverandover, and THEN, whenever I want, I'll make him stand over me, at attention, and we'll both watch his hypnotized cock spurt and jerk, and that hothothothothot cream will fly out over my tits... Or I could just tell FrankieBody that a hot, tight mouth is sucking him off irresistibly!

He obeys. "I'm... ungh! sticking up into your cunt! I'm STICKing UP inTO your CUNT. STICKing UP inTO your CUNT. STICK. UP. TO. CUNT. STICKUPTOCUNTSTICKUPTOCUNT..."

I can make the loudest grunting and moaning noises, rub myself all over FrankieBody, act like a slut, like a queen, like a virgin, like a first date, and I'm cumming again! He'll want to cum into my hand, into my nighties, into my hair, into my bra cups, ohGOD! I have to stop imagining now, have to give it up, have to stop cumming, it's time to settle back, I'm exhausted, and THERE comes my boy at last! Right up so deep inside Mommy's red hot CUNT! Squirt. Squirt. Squirt...

I've since managed to stop for a few days with my son. My sexual heat is such that just typing my story again for you has stimulated me to rub myself a bit raw! If there's any more to tell, I may add to this later. I'll do what I can to wean... both of us... from what right now seems a transcendent and unstoppable connection... I'm tired now. Good-night. Sleep well. Sleep. Sleeeeeep....