Kate Upfield (1)

The credits rolled over the last shot of Stallone's sweaty, muscular face, text crawling upward while "Bad to the Bone" blared through the theater speakers. Bobby let his consciousness melt into the pulsing silver ring adorning his finger. The polished chrome band flared crimson as intense waves of searing heat coursed through his body from head to toe. A warm, tingling "checkpoint" formed mentally, like a digital save point in case anything went awry with his ingenious or perhaps insidious scheme.

His enhanced senses took in the nearly empty movie theater. The late-night showing had left just a handful of other patrons gathering their belongings in the dim overhead lighting. Up ahead, Kate collected her designer leather handbag from the sticky floor, smoothing her navy blue blazer and knee-length pencil skirt with the graceful practiced motions of a sophisticated career woman. The subtle floral notes of her expensive French perfume reached Bobby's nostrils even from several rows back. Her sleek dark bob haircut framed refined, angular features that still caused the occasional admiring glance despite her being in her mid-thirties.

Bobby waited patiently until Kate started up the plush carpeted aisle before rising to saunter after her at a leisurely pace. 

"Did you enjoy the movie, mum?" Bobby called out in his most childlike, innocent voice, layering just the right tone of youthful naivety. It came very natural to him.

Kate turned at the sound, a flicker of fleeting confusion passing over her immaculate features for the briefest moment. Then her expression softened into one of warm maternal affection as the ring's illusion took hold, rewriting her memories and mixing reality with the manufactured fiction it projected. To her newly implanted perception, it was her own 11-year-old son Bobby standing there grinning impishly up at her.

"Oh Bobby sweetie, I'm not sure this awfully violent movie was really appropriate for a young boy your age," she gently chided with concerned motherly disapproval, though the words held no real heat or stern reproach behind them. The ring's insidious influence kept her mind from questioning or doubting the illusion too deeply.

"Aw c'mon Mom, all the other kids at school have already seen it," Bobby protested in perfect pre-teen whining, bouncing on the balls of his feet and playing up the childish boundless energy. Mentally, he noted how the tight pencil skirt hugged and accentuated the womanly curves of Kate's hips and rear end. "You were here to watch it with me the whole time anyway! I was perfectly safe."

"Well I suppose when you put it like that, you do have a point," Kate conceded with a fond maternal smile, pushing a strand of dark hair back over one ear. In her mind, she could clearly picture herself dutifully watching over her young son throughout the entirety of the gory Stallone action flick, rather than the solo reality of having attended purely for her own enjoyment. "Are you ready to head home now? You must be getting quite tired after sitting still for so long."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sleepy," Bobby agreed with an overly dramatic yawn, rubbing one eye sluggishly for added effect. 

As they headed for the lobby exit, he boldly grabbed a generous palmful of her firm ass cheek through the skirt and gave it an exploratory squeeze, his other hand sliding around to fondle her breasts through the silk blouse. 

In Kate's fabricated mind's eye however, she registered it as nothing more than her young son innocently holding her hand as they walked, his chubby little fingers briefly clutching at random folds of fabric before settling back at his side.

As they walked through the corridor, Bobby kept his charade of an innocent child perfectly in sync. His boyish features radiating wide-eyed curiosity and unbridled youthful energy. The facade projected by the ring was flawless - to any outside observer, he appeared every inch the rambunctious pre-teen, practically bouncing along beside the refined older woman, his supposedly "mother".

Kate's maternal instincts ran deep as her fingers tightened gently around his "smaller" hand, the motherly gesture coming as naturally to her fabricated mindset as breathing. Though Bobby's palms brazenly roamed without shame, caressing the womanly curves of her firm backside and pert breasts through the restrictive fabric, Kate registered only chaste, childlike touches - a son's idle fidgeting beside his ever-doting mother.

"What a well-behaved young man," the elderly security guard commented with a friendly nod, his wrinkled features crinkling into a warm smile as Kate and her "son" Bobby passed by. Bobby suppressed a knowing smirk, resisting the urge to openly grope or make any further inappropriate gestures toward Kate before too many eyes lest he shatter the carefully constructed illusion. Instead he settled for another firm squeeze of her shapely rear through the tight pencil skirt, eliciting a soft gasp that Kate registered only as a startled reaction to her child's idle fidgeting at her side.

With the theatre lobby now behind them, Bobby allowed his hands to roam Kate's enticing figure with unrestrained desire. His palms shamelessly caressed the soft swell of her breasts, feeling the weight of the supple mounds even through the restrictive silk fabric of her blouse. He tugged and pawed insistently until the top few buttons surrendered with audible pops, the lavender lace of her brassiere suddenly exposed along with the tantalizing hint of pale cleavage.

"Oh Bobby, you are such a naughty boy!" Kate laughed in a tone of fond maternal affection, her mind completely blind to the overtly sexual nature of his wandering hands. As far as her fabricated perception was concerned, he was simply being an energetic child squirming restlessly at her side like any rambunctious youth. The gentle tuts and chiding held no heat of true reproach, just the affectionate exasperation of a doting parent.

Bobby's fingers deftly traced teasing circles over the damp crotch of her panties, the satin growing steadily wetter as her body traitorously responded to the intimate fondling. Involuntary gasps and shivers coursed through Kate's frame, perceived only as restless fidgeting from an impatient young child rather than the wanton throes of physical arousal.

Outside, the vast concrete parking lot was dotted with several nondescript unmarked vans - clearly the remnants of the law enforcement surveillance teams still searching after the incident earlier.

Bobby kept up his innocent facade, playfully skipping along beside Kate even as they passed within full view of the tinted windows, his chubby little fingers tightly clutching her hand in a childlike grip. The fading evening sunlight and deepening shadows helped conceal his brazen misbehavior, though none of the agents spared more than a passing glance toward what seemed a typical mother escorting home her rambunctious son after an afternoon movie matinee.

They reached Kate's sleek Beemer, and Bobby smoothly maneuvered himself into the passenger seat, settling in while still playing up his exaggerated restlessness with theatrical squirming and impatient whining. 

"Can we stop for ice cream on the way home, Mommy? Pleeeeease?" he begged with all the shameless insistence of a spoiled child, unabashedly sliding one hand beneath the fabric of Kate's skirt to fondle and prod at her rapidly moistening sex.

To Kate's mind however, he registered only as an energetic young boy squirming and kicking his feet in the typical impatience of youth. She remained utterly oblivious to the overtly sexual nature of his touch, feeling only playful fidgeting rather than the intimate caresses her body instinctively craved. 

"Not tonight, sweetie," Kate replied in a slightly breathless voice, unconsciously pressing her thighs together in a vain attempt to quell the growing ache between her legs. "B-but how about we order pizza once we get home?"

The car pulled away from the curb, Bobby openly groping and fondling Kate as they passed the oblivious agents without a second look. The maddening wetness rapidly soaking Kate's undergarments went completely unnoticed, her hazy mind unable to process anything beyond a child's typical restless energy. Halfway home on the vacant highway however, Bobby's incessant probing and prodding finally overwhelmed her senses. Lighting bolts of ecstasy lanced through her from head to toe as a searing climax tore through her.

"Ooooohhhhhh Bobby!" Kate cried out, the Beemer veering dangerously across the empty lanes. For a terrifying moment her entire world narrowed to the mind-numbing euphoria washing over her like a breaking wave, orgasmic pleasure arching her back and sending every other rational thought scattering like leaves on the wind.

Only at the last moment did she manage to wrestle back control, fighting through the aftershocks to steady her death grip on the steering wheel and wrestle the vehicle back onto the proper course. Sharp stinging aftershocks lingered down between her tightly clenched thighs but Kate remained unaware of the true cause, the climax fueling by Bobby's relentless fondling perceived only as a child's harmless restlessness triggering some sort of freak neurological episode.

"Oh my...let's please remain seated properly for the rest of the drive sweetheart," Kate said in a breathless tone.

Bobby pretended to sit upright in the passenger seat, his face a mask of childish innocence and curiosity despite the mischievous glint in his eyes. He watched intently as his supposed "mother" brought the sleek luxury sedan back under control. She seemed momentarily flustered though the reason for it escaped her fictitious mindset thanks to the insidious influence of Bobby's polished ring.

As the car pulled into the residential neighborhood, Bobby took in the upper-middle-class surroundings with appreciative eyes. Neatly manicured lawns stretched out before tidy ranch-style houses and two-story colonials, basketball hoops standing sentinel over driveways, the very picture of idyllic suburban living.

The Beemer's tires crunched over the gravel drive before pulling into the spacious two-car garage of a handsome two-story home with pale blue shutters flanking the windows.

"We're home, Bobby!" Kate declared in a chipper motherly voice, the subtle floral notes of her perfume still carrying a powerful allure despite her slightly disheveled state.

Bobby quickly hopped out of the passenger seat, shaking out his limbs with a young boy's boundless energy and enthusiasm. He resisted the urge to openly ogle Kate's pert backside as she bent over the trunk to retrieve her handbag and other belongings, not wanting to risk shattering the illusion with such an overt lapse, at least not yet. Instead, he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, the very picture of youthful hyperactivity and impatience.

"Can we order a pizza Mommy? Can we, can we pleeeeeease?" he whined with all the irritating nasal pitch of a spoiled child having a tantrum, tugging insistently at the hem of her skirt and running tiny circles around her ankles like an overexcited puppy.

His wandering hands reached up to grope and knead at the fabric of her blouse and bra, outlining the intriguing curves of her breasts beneath, but Kate once again misinterpreted the overtly sexual acts as merely the impatient fidgeting of a rambunctious child.

"If you settle down Bobby, we can order pizza," she attempted to scold, though the gentle scolding rang hollow in her affectionate maternal tones. "But first we need to get cleaned up from our big day at the movies."

Kate's heels clicked across the hardwood floors as she led the way into the spacious two-story home. Her footsteps traced a well-worn path past the family room with its entertainment center and plush sofa, toward the bathroom off the main hallway.

"Mummy will get the bath ready," she smiled indulgently over one shoulder at Bobby as if addressing a much younger child. She moved to fill the old claw-foot tub with steaming water from the built-in shower faucet, sending tendrils of vapor ghosting through the dimly lit bathroom.

While Kate's back was turned, Bobby took a moment to openly admire the tight curve of her backside framed by the knee-length skirt. With a series of deft motions he shrugged out of the shirt and suit, standing fully nude and unembarrassed as his physical form seemed to shift and blur before settling into a flawless replication of a young boy.

Not just any child's shape, but one that precisely matched the mental illusions Kate's fabricated mindset expected to see. To her artificially-constructed perception, it would simply seem like her own son preparing to take a bath, a common domestic ritual etched into the fabric of her false memories.

Luxuriously-scented bubbles frothed up from the steadily filling tub, obscuring the surface of the water in an inviting soapy froth. Kate stirred the lightly perfumed bath with one hand while slipping off her blazer and using the other hand to begin unbuttoning her silk blouse, dropping garments in a carelessly discarded trail toward the sink.

She hummed a soft, comforting tune as she stripped down to her lavender lace undergarments, not a hint of self-consciousness lingered in her demeanor. In Kate's altered mindset there was nothing out of the ordinary about disrobing to her underwear before assisting her young son with his nightly bath. It was merely a practiced domestic routine, an ingrained nightly ritual repeated countlessly over the years.

"Come along now, Bobby," Kate crooned with a pleasant smile, sinking one foot into the steaming bath to test the temperature. "Let Mummy get you all nice and squeaky clean."