Reassure mom, cuddle her a little, then get her out of the house so you can cast a spell.

You feel sorry for your mom. It isn't her fault that she's going through this. You want to be kind to her, but you also need her out of the house. If she saw you casting the spell, and started asking questions, it might lead to her finding out what really happened to make her this way. That couldn't be good.

You put your arms around her and give her a tight hug. "I'm fine mom. Like I told you before, you didn't cause me any lasting trauma. It’s good that we’re close and can talk about anything.” You speak softly and stroke her hair, and you keep holding her.

She nods against your chest, and her shimmying becomes more like grinding her body against yours. “You’re so understanding, honey. I’m so lucky to have raised such a wonderful young man.” She kisses the side of your neck, then lets out a small gasp when she realizes that isn’t just motherly affection. “Oh…Dave, I’m sorry I’m this way. I just… miss you whenever I’m not with you.”

“Shhhh… It’s ok, mom. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You murmur, and keep gently stroking her long, dark hair. In the back of your mind, you can’t help thinking how great it’s going to be when Tracey can’t help showing affection like this and misses you whenever you’re not around. But that’s not going to happen until you get some privacy and cast the spell.

Your cock has been stirring and stiffening in your jeans. You tell yourself that it’s because you’re thinking about making Tracey your ****, but your mother’s soft body pressed tightly against yours certainly isn’t putting a damper on your arousal. You move your hands to her shoulders, pushing her back away from you gently. You don’t want her to feel your growing hard on. You don’t know how that would make her react.

“Can we talk about stuff later though? I want to get some homework done now, so I can relax tonight.” You tell her. “You know, it’s a beautiful day out. You should go for a nice long walk while I’m busy. You told me you’ve been working on getting in better shape, right? And it’s definitely working.” You say encouragingly. “You should get in some cardio and burn some calories before dinner.” You smile at her.

Your mother’s face brightens. It’s almost as if you giving her something to do makes her instantly happier. “That’s a great idea, honey. I’ll do that and let you get your work done.” She heads for the front door.

“Hold on mom. You probably should put on sneakers first. If it’s a nice, long walk, about an hour, the right shoes will be easier on your feet.” You suggest.

“You’re right. What was I thinking?” She shakes her head. Then she hurries towards her bedroom to change her shoes.

You head to your room. You wake your computer, open the school’s web portal, and pull up an assignment to make it look like you’re doing schoolwork. Your mom sticks her head in and lets you know she’s heading out for her walk. “Have fun,” you tell her. “See you in an hour.” You reiterate how long she should walk, to make sure you’ll have time alone.

When you hear the front door close, and you know your mom is out of the house, you open the webpage that you’ve committed to memory now, so can read the instructions carefully as you perform the ritual again. You pull the folded pieces of paper with the girls’ hair from your backpack, and lay the long, blonde hair out on your desk. You put Leah’s hair away in a desk drawer… for later maybe. You dig the candle and a lighter out of the drawer, light the candle, and start chanting the strange syllables of the spell. The whole time you keep as focused as you can on Tracey, her name, and your mental image of her face. You don’t want anything to go wrong this time.

When you’re done, you put the candle away. You go to pick up the hair from your desk, but you can’t find it. You wonder if the magic disintegrated it… used it up somehow. You’re burning with anticipation to find out if it worked, but the description of the spell says that the subject must sleep and dream about you before it takes effect.

The whole thing took just a few minutes. You figure you should get some homework done since you told her that’s what you’d be doing, and she might ask about it. You work on an assignment, but you can’t really concentrate on it. You keep thinking about what it will be like to have Tracey as a ****.

That gets you thinking about BDSM porn you’ve seen. You’ve been turned on by it since you discovered it, but you aren’t sure how realistic the things you’ve seen are. You start googling information about real Master/**** relationships, BDSM practices, safety, and other things you think you should know if you’re going to be a Master. The searching leads you back to porn, since most internet searches you do end up there, eventually.

You become completely engrossed in a video of a man training a naked collared woman to kneel in very particular poses and serve him drinks and food in specific ways, correcting her with smacks from a riding crop when she deviates from his instructions. You lose track of time. You are in the middle of the video when you hear a soft gasp from behind you. You turn to see your mother, staring wide-eyed, blushing bright red. Her breasts heaving as she breaths heavily. “Dave… is, is that… the sort of thing you want? The kind of woman you want?” She takes a step into your room, her eyes moving from the computer screen to your face and back.