Beep Stories


"God, this summer was so boring."
"Only because you made it boring," Vivian, my best friend, fired back.
There was some truth to what she said but that didn't stop me from glaring at her pointedly. She rolled her eyes.
"I'm teeelling yoooou," she sang into her wine glass, taking another sip.
"I'm not going to listen to that stupid tape," I grumbled.
"You should. It changed my life."
"Viv, I love you, but you've been a huge slut long before you ever hypnotized"—I put as much disdain as I could muster into the word—"yourself."
"Maybe but at least now I feel good about it."
Both of us laughed.
Altogether, it was not a bad evening. We were two bottles of wine in, a nice and fruity blackberry mix, and I already texted my husband Kyle that I would crash on Vivian's couch. A girl's night in, so to speak, with the best part being that neither of us had to get all dressed up. Just pajamas, candles, and plenty of snacks.
"Seriously though, Charlie, you should at least make an attempt to live it up a little," Vivian persisted.
"Why do I need to change when I'm happy?"
"You spent the last hour whining about how boring your summer was. Does being bored make you happy?"
Once again, she had a point.
Earlier that year, my son graduated from high school and he insisted on moving into a dorm. If the drive to college hadn't been forty-five minutes, I would have insisted he commute. Ever since, the house had been unbearably quiet during the day. I never realized just how much of a mess teenage boys made until he was gone.
The downside of suddenly having more spare time on my hands than I knew what to do with was that I didn't really have a hobby unless you counted housework and watching TV.
Vivian, on the other hand, always said there weren't enough hours in the day. We were both thirty-nine and had been best friends since Kindergarten. What made us such good friends was how different we were. She was the party animal, I was the "responsible" one. She dragged me out to parties and I made her do her taxes. We never got bored of each other.
"Yeah, well, I can't just go to a bar and have a one night stand with a random guy whose name I don't know but he said I had a cute butt so I let him do anal."
Vivian giggled. "That was totally worth it. And I'm not saying you should become me, I'm not even saying you shouldn't be yourself, I'm just saying that you should admit to yourself you're not happy and have the guts to do something about it."
"And you think hypnosis is going to help with that?"
"Can't hurt to try."
"Oh please, just admit it's all bullshit and you just want to punk me."
"Sounds like you're just afraid it might work and I turn you into my little puppet slave."
"I'm not afraid, I just don't believe in nonsense."
My head hurt and no amount of water or cereal, regardless of how delicious it was, seemed to fix it. Still, a little pain was worth the fun evening. We chatted well into the night and caught up on every current event, both important and unimportant ones.
But for the life of me, I couldn't remember how she talked into taking that damn CD. I completely forgot about it until I was back home and got my phone out of the purse, which had been dropped unceremoniously on the floor beside the entrance earlier that morning.
A part of me had already forgotten that CDs even existed.
The cover consisted of a blue background with just the picture of a woman, from the torso up, with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Dr. Sorensen's Female Empowerment. The woman looked rather young to be a doctor, in my opinion. She had too-blonde hair, done up in an anachronistic bun and wore a white lab coat. It didn't exactly instill confidence in her ability to hypnotize strangers.
If I had anything better to do, I would have just tossed the case back into the purse but my husband wouldn't be back until late that evening and I already did laundry and got the shopping done the day before.
Sighing, I made my way upstairs and pulled down the attic ladder. I knew that somewhere among all of our old and useless belongings there was a CD player. It took me fifteen minutes but I found the Discmaster 3000 tucked in between stuffed toys and a plastic bin of random Lego bricks. It was Kyle's old player that had been a gift from his company and never worked quite well. It had a hook to strap onto your belt but the lightest touch made it skip.
It required four batteries but to my surprise, it turned on. Fortunately, it came with a set of headphones, the old style with a thin metal band that went over your head, because I doubted I had any corded ones in the house.
I popped in the CD and hit play.
"Welcome, my name is Doctor Sorensen," a firm, but at the same time pleasant, voice greeted me. Her accent was something Scandinavian but I couldn't quite place the country. "Before we begin, you should make yourself as comfortable as possible. It can be your couch or your bed, somewhere where you feel like you can relax."
I hit pause. At the moment, I didn't feel very relaxed at all. I hadn't showered yet and my skin still felt icky from dried booze sweat.
Half an hour later, squeaky clean and wrapped in a very soft, warm purple bathrobe, I made myself comfortable on the living room couch. It was an unusually long fabric-covered three-seater with armrests that were the perfect height for my head. I grabbed the TV watching blanket and made myself warm and comfortable.
"Please hit pause now and make sure you get into a comfortable position," the recording continued.
"Way ahead of you, bitch," I said with smug satisfaction.
"The first step is to take stock of your body. Close your eyes and try to picture yourself. Start with the crown of your head. You have a scalp and underneath that is a skull. I want you to try and relax that."
If I hadn't been so comfortable, I would have gotten up. The scent of my rosemary body wash was nice and my feet were toasty warm. I sighed and closed my eyes.
One by one, Dr. Sorensen worked her way through the body, from the top of the head down to each individual toe. She wanted me to relax everything and, to her credit, it did feel nice to just lie there and actively try to relax. I could still move, if I wanted to, I just didn't want to.
"Now that you are relaxed, it is time to relax your inner self. Forget about the world around you, it does not matter. Only you matter. It is your body and it is your life, not anyone else's."
Next came a whole bunch of motivational speeches that already felt familiar, since I've heard variations hundreds of times before. You can do anything you want, you are in control, blah, blah blah. Still, Dr. Sorensen's mellifluous voice had a calming effect on me and my mind started to tune out the individual words, focusing on her tone.
With a start, I woke up. Something buzzed in my ears.
"…your son. Fuck—kcccccchh—your son. Fuck—kcccccchh—your son. Fuck—"
For a moment, I was wondering if my eyes weren't working. I tried opening them again before seeing the faint glow of numbers underneath the TV. It was dark. Almost seven o'clock.
"Kcccccchh—your son. Fuck—"
The damn player was skipping. I slapped it.
"Forget about your husband, your daughter, your son," Dr. Sorensen said in an intense tone. "Fuck the world. Put yourself on the throne of your own queendom."
I turned it off and took the headphones off. The CD was only sixty minutes long but I slept for around five hours. What a complete waste of a day that had been, the opposite of the intended effect.
I threw aside the blanket and saw that at some point during my nap, my bathrobe had come loose. The flaps had slid completely off to the side, leaving my entire lower body naked. I swung my legs out of bed and tied the belt around me again.
Getting up was somewhat of a challenge. My body was groggy, the way it usually was if I overslept. I made a mental reminder to call Vivian and tell her it had been a monumentally stupid idea. I didn't feel a single bit like a new person. I tried to think of anything that I've always wanted to do but never had the guts to try and couldn't come up with anything.
I yawned and walked to the kitchen.
To my great surprise, Kyle was sitting at the table eating the same cereal I forgot to pack away. My stomach grumbled, yearning for something a little more solid.
"Good evening," I muttered, heading for the fridge.
"Everything okay? I saw you on the couch, it looked like you were completely out."
"Don't get me started. Some stupid idea Viv had."
"Was that my old CD player?"
I looked in the fridge and nothing looked appealing, or rather everything that looked appealing would have taken too much effort to make. In the end, I just grabbed two slices of bread and got peanut butter out of the pantry.
"I can't believe that old piece of junk still works. I remember we put it away because it wouldn't stop skipping even if it sat perfectly still."
"I can confirm it still does that."
"I can rip the CD so you can listen to it on your phone."
"Nah, I don't think I'll be needing it," I said, smearing peanut butter on one side of the bread.
Sidenote: Yes, I am aware of how it looks. I'm a thirty-nine-year-old woman eating cereal and peanut butter sandwiches, that doesn't mean I'm in any way unhealthy, okay? It's just a side effect of rearing a headstrong son who inherited his father's sweet tooth. When you always have them around, you just kinda get used to the taste. In the end, you even start enjoying it.
I work out twice a week at the gym, God knows I have plenty of spare time to do it. Besides that, I like to swim a lot. We don't have a pool of our own but there's a fantastic one downtown. Early in the morning, it's mostly empty and I can just swim lanes in peace. So don't give me that condescending attitude about my diet. I look good for my age, damn it.
End of sidenote.
"I take it you had a late night with Viv," Kyle commented.
"Yeeeaaaah," I yawned. "I didn't get home until noon-ish."
"No wonder you slept all day."
"Hey! I didn't sleep all day. Just most of it. It wasn't on purpose. Viv gave me this stupid thing and I just kinda dozed off."
"What thing?"
"Forget it, it's stupid. Some self-hypnosis crap. It's a good sleeping aide but nothing else."
"Maybe I should give it a try, then."
"Sure," I giggled. "If you want to become a powerful and independent woman."
"Ah, no thanks. I'm quite happy the way I am."
"Me too."
"Yes. Both of us have excellent genes. Oh, that reminds me, I got a text from Luke that he's coming for Halloween."
A shiver raced up my spine. I shifted my feet, feeling an almost uncomfortable heat between my legs. I dropped the sandwich I was preparing and turned toward my husband.
Next thing I knew, I was standing next to him, going in for a ferocious kiss. He was surprised but quickly gave in. While we were making out, I unbuttoned his pants. That's when he pulled back.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I want to fuck," I blurted out. "Right now."
Kyle pulled his head back and furrowed his brows but any concern he had quickly evaporated. He got up enough to push his pants down to his ankles. I grabbed his dick and got it hard while kissing him. He untied my bathrobe's belt.
It had been a while since I felt such an overwhelming urge to make love to my husband. As soon as he was hard, I shrugged out of the bathrobe and straddled his legs. Under normal circumstances, feeling his cock slide in me was like itching a particularly annoying scratch. Immensely satisfying.
But I felt very little of that. It only felt familiar, in the sense that I knew exactly how it would feel, but without the excitement. I figured that maybe I was in the mood for something harder and I told him to move up a little.
I knew how to ride a guy and I summoned every bit of my knowledge to ride Kyle as hard as I could. I grabbed both of his shoulders for support, planted one knee on the seat beside his leg, and the other foot firmly on the ground.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to feel "it". Yes, I was aware of his cock inside me but it just didn't feel like much of anything as if my crotch had gone numb. I worked myself into a lather, sweat dripping down my chin and splashing on my breasts.
Then Kyle came and he went soft.
"Wow…. just wow," he said, awestruck. "Guess that hypnosis stuff really works."
"How do you undo this shit?" I barked into the phone.
"Undo what?" Vivian asked.
"That stupid hypnosis thing."
A giggle came through the line.
"I thought that didn't work," Vivian said smugly.
"It doesn't work. It broke something."
At that moment, I was lying on my marital bed, surrounded by almost my entire collection of toys. Three dildos, a butt plug, two regular vibrators, a travel vibrator, and a clitoral stimulator. Six batteries, all empty now. A pair of nipple clamps were still attached to my tits.
"Broke what, my dear Charlie?" Vivian cooed.
"It's not funny. I can't cum anymore."
"What?" Vivian asked in a much more serious tone.
"I listened to that stupid CD and fell asleep. When I woke up, I was really horny but I haven't been able to climax."
"Did you try masturbating?"
"Yes. I tried everything. Sex with Kyle, the shower nozzle, toys, fingers, everything!"
"Maybe you're just not doing it right."
"I. AM. FUCKING. DOING. IT. RIGHT," I shouted.
"Okay, okay, calm down. Maybe you're just too stressed out and need to—"
"Do not fucking tell me to relax," I interrupted her. "That's what that devil woman wanted me to do before she put a spell on my pussy."
Vivian laughed.
"Look, I listened to the entire thing multiple times. There's nothing in there about, uh, jinxing your genitals. It's pure empowerment and I've never felt better."
"And you haven't had problems in the bed since?"
"Nope. Sex has been fantastic, better now than before."
"You don't feel like you're sort of… numb?"
"No. Do you?"
"Yes and no. I can still feel things, it's just not doing anything for me."
"Maybe it's menopause."
"It's not menopause," I grumbled.
"You don't know that, you're not a doctor."
"I don't need to be a doctor to tell you when you're being stupid."
"Just saying, it's a good thing you already popped out such a great kid. I on other hand have a magically invulnerable uterus."
It was the least sexiest topic I could think of but just at that moment, my body seemed to rev to life. Maybe it was because I was absentmindedly playing with the nipple clamps. I gave them a quick tug to confirm that yes, I was damn horny.
Whatever the reason, I didn't pass up the opportunity and grabbed the one vibrator that still had batteries in it. I turned it to full power and shoved it into my dripping wet pussy.
"Ohhh," I moaned.
"Eww, gross, are you doing it right now?" Vivian recoiled.
"Mmmhm," I mumbled.
"Ew. But I'm glad nothing's wrong after all. Bye weirdo."
Beep. The phone went silent.
Something was wrong, however. Despite my body shouting at me that it was horny, the vibrator accomplished nothing.
Frustrated, I pulled the vibrator out again and threw off the bed. I grabbed the chain connecting the nipple clamps and yanked them off.
It hurt but at least it felt like something.
It was getting worse and worse the longer I remained unsatisfied. After trying to get off didn't work, I tried ignoring it. That only made me antsier and I had to apologize to Kyle after repeatedly snapping at him for literally no reason — or at least one that wasn't his fault.
The entire week had been hellish, it seemed somehow appropriate that Halloween was just around the corner. My gyno said nothing was wrong physically and I should relax with a glass of wine and just let it happen if it wanted to happen. Nothing happened.
In a last-ditch effort, I even took up Kyle on the offer to put the hypnosis disc on my phone. I listened to it three times but it did not improve the situation. It was hard to relax given my predicament.
The worst part was that Luke was coming home and at least with my husband I could be honest but there was no way I could tell my son that I'm not angry at him, I'm just insanely horny and can't get off. I've been flitting around the house, cleaning every single square inch of the place.
The work, at least, distracted me enough from my urges.
But now Luke was due to arrive and I was hornier than ever. Kyle walked in on me just going to town on the shaft of the vacuum cleaner clamped between my legs. He told me to "get a grip" on myself which, believe it or not, did not help in the least.
I was in the bathroom, wiping away an excessive amount of juices and switching to my third pair of panties that day, when the doorbell rang.
Groaning, I went downstairs. Kyle and Luke were standing by the door, chatting. It was remarkable how much the two of them were alike but at the same time completely different. Luke had outgrown his father by an inch and he still had a full head of rugged, brown hair. Even when he was nineteen, Kyle never looked like that. He had always been wiry. Luke, on the other hand, was bulky — in the good way.
"Ah, there you are, Charlie. This young man tells me he is our son but it's been so long since I've seen him, I'm not sure I recognize him," Kyle quipped.
Not in the mood for stupid jokes, I pushed Kyle out of the way and embraced my son in a hug.
I had hugged him hundreds, if not thousands, of times before then but I was not prepared for what happened to me. The moment my fingers touched his waist, I was drawn into him like a drowning woman caught in deep currents.
Luke wrapped his arms around me and his touch on my back was electrifying. His fingertips crackled with lightning, sending shivers up my spine. He pulled me close and my cheek pressed against his firm chest. His smell enveloped me. The powerful beat of his heart was like thunder. My knees were like jelly.
"Whoa there, let the boy breathe," Kyle chuckled and pulled on my shoulder.
I whirled around and for a split second, I wanted to murder him for interrupting me. Then reality came crashing back down on me.
"It's-nice-to-see-you-Luke-I-gotta-finish-up-something," I squeaked before sprinting back up the stairs.
"Don't worry about it," Kyle said, almost out of earshot.
The bathroom door slammed shut behind me. I threw myself on the bed, de-pantsing myself mid-air, and yanked open the drawer with my toys.
I knew it was wrong on every level but I couldn't help myself.
Plunging the dildo inside myself while closing my eyes and imagining my son with his arms around me felt perfect. His hands traveled lower on my body, squeezing my ass. They slipped inside my pants, fingers probing at my pussy. His mouth descended on mine. His heart beat in sync with mine.
Thump. Fuck. Thump. Your son. Thump. Fuck. Thump. Your son.
I came in a blinding orgasm, hearing Dr. Sorensen's words in my mind.
Fuck. Kcccccchh. Your son. Fuck. Kcccccchh. Your son. Fuck. Kcccccchh. Your son. Fuck. Kcccccchh. Your son.
Panting for air, body still trembling, I opened my eyes. I was in my bedroom though I couldn't remember how I got there. My leg was twitching. The dildo had fallen outside of me, lying on top of a big wet spot. It looked like someone threw a water balloon at my pussy.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
Part of me wanted to shout with joy that I was finally able to relieve myself. The other part was filled with guilt at the price that came attached. I had thoughts no mother should ever have about her child. Dark and terrifying thoughts.
And no matter how often my rational part kept telling me that it was just the stupid hypnosis, that it wasn't real, that I didn't actually want to do it, that it was insane to even consider it, thinking about doing it was exhilarating in a way I never felt before.

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