Misdirected Magic
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Master PC - Child Of The ProgramChapter 17: Misdirected Intentions free porn video
After everyone else had gone up to bed, I continued to sit on the couch, turning on the TV to find out what to expect of the blizzard currently pounding us. Yeah, I know. Snow, lots of snow. But I wanted to know if it was moving on and how soon we could expect things to return to ... well, normal.
The Weather Channel was covering just that very thing and from the size of the coverage on the Doppler radar, it didn't look like it would stop before morning. I sighed. Being back at home was bad enough, but being stuck in the house was worse. The memories made me want to break out the shovel and make sure there would be an escape path if needed, but there were too many things going on that had to be resolved. At the moment, I was hoping Mom would answer some of my questions regarding my adoption. With the way she had received me and treated me like I was the son she had always wanted, I was a little more than hopeful.
It might have been possible that my parents and oldest sister were being nice because I was only staying the week. It was possible that my parents had talked it over and felt they owed me something for all the hardships. It was possible that the blizzard would suddenly turn into a giant fire storm and burn the state off the map. Yeah, that last was most likely.
I had thought about so many reasons why they had been acting so strangely but only one thing would make such a change so possible and complete. Master PC. With their profiles requiring passwords, I was more than certain that the program was responsible. I might as well take advantage. I'm pretty sure it was what they would do if our places were reversed. Of course I didn't have anything they wanted.
The Weather Channel went on to report on the West Coast. It wasn't anything that would affect us for the next few days so I turned it off. I sat there in the dark, the coals in the fire were the only light in the room.
Mom had gone to the kitchen, probably to have one last drink before bed. I heard hear approach, just a soft rustling. Looking around in the dim light I saw nothing, but then almost like a ghost, Mom made her way toward me in her bathrobe. In the soft light I saw the robe first and then her second.
She stopped at the end of the couch. "Sitting alone in the dark?"
I looked up at her face. I still couldn't believe she looked so different. The expression was soft concern rather than sharp annoyance.
"Yeah, just thinking things over. And I was hoping we could talk."
She moved closer and sat next to me. The couch was long enough for four people to sit together comfortably and she chose to press right up against me. After my encounter with Monique in my room, I worried about Mom's closeness for a moment. My Charm was under lock and key. I knew how it would affect her and how quickly, and at the moment Mom seemed relaxed.
"What's on your mind?" She asked.
I just shook my head. How could I tell her that she and dad were acting weird by being nice? It was something I had always wanted, loving parents, but instead it bothered more than how they used to act. It also made it difficult for me to ask about my adoption. "Nothing much. Guess it's just been a busy day." I can't believe I just let it go like that!
She smiled. "From what I hear you did okay on your exams."
I looked up at that. Mandy and I hadn't spoken about school at all since we left. What did Mom really know? Or was she just trying to make polite conversation? And why now, alone? "Yeah, they were okay. Could've been better."
She smiled and laid her arm across my shoulders. It was supposed to be a normal motherly-affection kind of reaction, but it made me tense up and she noticed. "What's the matter? Why so tense?" She immediately pushed on my shoulders to get me to turn so she could get at them.
Again, my conditioning to do what she told me to made me turn. Immediately her hands covered my shoulders and with a strength I wouldn't have guessed at she began working on the knots I didn't know I had. Though it felt good to have my shoulders rubbed, the fact that it was my mother doing it kept me tense.
I was perplexed. A conundrum of conflicting impulsions battled inside me. The attention she was offering was welcome, but the woman I had grown to expect to be upset with me — no matter how slight the issue — was the same one.
"God, Ral. No wonder you had so many problems in school. I'd have difficulty concentrating at work if I were this tense all the time." She pulled away and I started to relax, hoping she wasn't going to continue. The tone in her voice had suggested otherwise, but I was hopeful. She stood up. "Take off your sweater."
I just looked up at her. I wasn't sure if she could see my expression, but it didn't matter.
"Take off your sweater and lie down on the couch." She said. Her voice held only a slight hint of commanding tone. That was all it took.
Again, I gave in. Unlike earlier however, I wasn't getting mad about the situation. Actually, I was thinking along a different line. If she got me to relax, maybe whatever was blocking me from asking about my adoption would slip and I could actually talk to her about it. So, I took off the sweater and laid face down on the couch. To be honest, a very small part of me expected her to come after me with a switch, but I felt her bare hands on my shoulders again. The touch was light at first and then became more firm.
The skin-to-skin contact was nice. Her fingers dug into my muscles and worked at the knots and I began to melt into her motions.
Wait, she was touching me skin-to-skin and my ability to share memories hadn't just gone off?
I focused on her fingers, her touch. I thought about her skin touching mine, the soft contours and firm application, the tender ministration and curious strength. As I relaxed under her hands, I focused on her, her emotions, and her mind. There had to be answers in there. Answers regarding my adoption, something that might tell me more about why I had come to live with this family. As I eased into her emotions, the first level of her being, the first thing I found and the last thing I wanted to know about was her desire. She was enjoying giving me this shoulder massage. The touch of my body under her hands was turning her on. There was no confusion and anger, as Monique had experienced, only the need for a warm body to lie next to hers. I thought at first that it was because Dad wouldn't be home, so I ignored that urge and continued deeper into her psyche. The first image from her was me on my back while she pulled off my pants and began exploring my hardening manhood. It made me tense up again.
"Oh, Ral. This isn't working. How about if you lay on the floor so I can get a better angle?"
I should have said no. I should have got up, put my sweater back on, and gone back upstairs. What I did was move over onto the floor and lay there, waiting for her to continue. My automatic obedience to her commands won out over reason. She was acting like she was drawn to me, just like Monique had started out when she had first entered my room. I knew what was going on. What I didn't know was who was pulling the strings.
Mom crawled over me, straddling my body with hers. She lowered her face next to my ear and whispered, "Thank you for being so cooperative." Then she sat back, sitting on my butt as if it were a pillow. Pressure built up in my groin as a result and I knew I would probably get hard, and it would be uncomfortable.
She resumed working on my shoulders. She was right, the angle was better, but I was more focused on her. It took me a minute but I relaxed and focused on our contact.
Memories came to me. She had a big argument about money with Dad. He had made some investments and she didn't agree with them. It wasn't the amount of money he invested, but the company, one that she didn't think had a good future. Why they argued so adamantly about the company was beyond me, but neither wanted to back down. She left the bedroom and slept on the couch that night. It wasn't the first time, but it was the first I had ever known about.
Another memory, this one concerning my calls. Mom thought I should know the truth about my adoption but dad was stead-fast against it. Again, the reasons were lost, as if Mom either didn't know why or something had removed them. I was pretty sure if Master PC had been used to alter her memories I would notice the screaming replacements. However, something like with the command that had urged Monique to ... do what she did was at work here. It was possible the same Mind Magi was responsible, but there was no way to be certain. It wasn't like I had a symbol or fingerprint to compare the two with. Not wanting to reveal myself to whoever was making the changes, I didn't push further. There was also the possibility that whoever it was might have been watching us. I couldn't see how unless they had some kind of clairvoyant ability.
At the moment, with her mindset, Mom believed she was looking for comfort from me while thinking of the reasons she wasn't with Dad — other than his absence. I was okay with that, as long as her desire to get me out of my pants remained only a thought and didn't happen.
Then there was a memory of Monique's arrival and the guy she had brought home with her, Ryan. Mom thought he was handsome and quite charming. I wasn't fooled. He reminded me of others I had seen only through my women's memories - guys that only wanted to get laid and would lure women into their beds only to leave them lonely before dawn. Mom may have been lonely enough to allow it to happen to her, but some part of me didn't want ... what? Want it to happen? Want her to be happy? Or, want her to go to a stranger? Even my feelings of how I was raised didn't dispel that thought. I would protect her from others, but would I leave her lonely with Dad? I didn't know.
Those thoughts also made me think of Monique. She was upstairs with Ryan now. I could feel her emotional blankness which told me she was already fast asleep.
Mom had started moving down, working along my spine, sliding her hands over my back with a level of skill I wouldn't have expected. She even slipped her finger tips under the waist of my jeans but no further. She was trying to work out the tension in my muscles externally. Internally, I could feel her excitement at the intimacy of how she touched me.
I couldn't bring myself to ask about my adoption at the moment. Mom's thoughts and feelings were starting to affect me. I was also sure any attempt to trace the source of those subtle changes in her might tip off whoever made them that I was more than just the son of the family. I needed to just go to bed, sleep on it and hope that tomorrow would bring me more answers.
"Roll over honey. Let me work on your chest," she said softly.
She got up and I rolled over. She stood over me, her legs straddling my hips. Her robe had opened enough to show off a lot of leg. If not for the dim light, I might have seen what she was wearing under the robe. When I looked up to her face, I caught a glimpse of her desire. She smiled, hiding her thoughts, but it was too late. I knew her thoughts were gaining ground. If she reached for the top of my jeans again, I'd put a stop to it.
Then she lowered herself down on me. She didn't bother closing her robe or trying to cover herself. She went down, allowing her legs to push the soft cloth away and expose her bare body to me. She sat gingerly on my thighs and I could feel her heat. No, that thought wasn't just a thought anymore.
As she settled down, relaxing into place I started to sit up. "Mom..."
She put a finger to my lips. "Shhh..." She pushed me gently back down. "Let me finish, then you can go on to bed."
Let her finish? She was just getting started. How long had it been since her and Dad... ? No! I didn't want to think about that. It was wrong. It wasn't my fault if they were having problems. I wasn't to blame if she hadn't had ... sex ... in a while.
She leaned over and lightly ran her hands over my chest and down my abs. Over and over again, she softly touched my skin, rocking back and forth as she reached forward on me and pulled back. It was sort of like watching someone using a rowboat, only my body replaced the use of oars.
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