A Record of Family Hypnotic Incest [2/2]

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Family Hypnotic Eroticism (Part Two)

It was expected that my mother would resist me; after all, I am her son. Even in her dreams, she wouldn't have a physical relationship with me because she had no such thoughts or desires.

If it were just about having sex with my mother, that would be relatively easy. I only needed to suggest to her that I wasn't her son, but her husband, and she would readily agree.

However, this wasn't the result I wanted. I wanted to unite with her as her son, to make her willingly my sex slave, my possession. For the past few months, I had been craving this constantly

. For this result, I was even willing to give up the pleasure that was about to be mine.

I stopped violating my mother and tried to soothe her with the gentlest voice: "Relax, it was just a breeze. Relax, you can't feel anything."

"Your body belongs to you and your husband, and these two people can touch any part of your body, right?" I continued to guide my mother.

"Yes." Hearing my mother's answer, I couldn't help but feel resentment towards my father.

"Sex is very comfortable and wonderful, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"You often want to enjoy sex, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Your husband isn't here, so you can't enjoy sex, right?"

"Yes."

"Then you crave sex more than before, don't you?"

"Yes." My mother seemed to think for a moment.

"Have you tried masturbating?"

"Yes." I never expected my mother to have this side to her; it was completely different from the dignified and virtuous mother I remembered.

"Do you masturbate often?"

"Rarely."

"Your husband has been away from you for several days, and today you are especially thirsty, especially craving his comfort. Your body is gradually starting to feel hot and itchy, hoping someone will touch you." I described every scene of a resentful woman I could think of to my mother. I saw her face gradually turn red, and her body seemed to react, shifting slightly uncomfortably. I wondered what kind of fantasies she was lost in.

I moved my mother's right hand to the area above her vulva and gently pressed it down through her clothes. My mother let out a soft moan and frowned.

"You're alone in your room now, touching your vulva, aren't you? You really need your own comfort right now."

My mother's hand began to rub her vulva as if no one else was there. Even through her clothes, she skillfully found her sensitive spot and quickly got into the mood. The blush on her face spread to her neck, and the moans from her nose grew louder.

I had never imagined that I would see my mother masturbating in front of me, let alone that her expression of arousal was so captivating. Her delicate eyebrows were slightly furrowed and relaxed, as if expressing her inner turmoil and joy; beads of sweat appeared on the tip of her fine nose, whether from the heat or from passion; her small mouth was slightly open, emitting a wet, hot sigh that was utterly alluring. Her thin white t-shirt was already soaked with sweat, revealing glimpses of her ivory-white skin, especially the large patch of snow-white skin exposed at her chest, which hinted at the allure of her breasts. Her rounded yet shapely abdomen was the result of her long-term maintenance and exercise. Unfortunately, she was wearing a pair of lounge shorts instead of the long dress she had worn that morning, so she wasn't wearing stockings. Her bare legs were certainly plump and attractive, but they didn't have the same mature and mysterious feel as when she wore stockings.

Gradually, a faint dampness appeared on the front of her lounge shorts near her vulva. Her body writhed more violently, and the frequency of her finger movements increased. I saw her toes begin to straighten, as if she was about to reach orgasm. I quickly grabbed her rapidly waving right hand to stop her movements.

Then, in as authoritative a voice as possible, I commanded, "Stop! You can't move your fingers."

Although her brows furrowed, showing extreme reluctance, she still managed to stop. But because of my previous strong hints, she obediently stopped. However, the soft moans on her lips and the lingering flush clearly told me of my mother's unsatisfied desire.

"Remember this feeling. From now on, you won't be able to reach orgasm through masturbation; at most, you'll get this feeling. You'll constantly crave masturbation, but you'll pause before each orgasm; then the next time you masturbate, you'll get closer, but without my command, you can't reach orgasm." I gave my mother this cruel command; I wanted to conquer her with her own desires.

"When I say 'Open Sesame' to you in a moment, you'll wake up, forget everything that just happened, and you'll only remember that we were talking and that you liked my gift. You won't have any doubts about the physical abnormalities; it's all just because it's too hot. But every time you hear me say 'Slave Mom,' you'll return to your current state; I am both your son and your master, and you must obey my commands."

"Understood." “Mom answered obediently as always.

“Now, open sesame.”

Mom’s tightly closed eyes snapped open, regaining their usual sparkle. Although the effects of the hallucinogenic drug hadn’t completely worn off, Mom’s consciousness had returned to normal.

“Thank you, son. Mom really likes this perfume.” Mom automatically returned to the topic from before the hypnosis.

“You’re welcome. I knew Mom would like it.” I tried my best to give Mom my most innocent smile, but I was already looking forward to the show that night.

After half an evening of idle chatter, it was time to say goodnight.

“Goodnight.” Mom escorted me to my bedroom door like she was seeing a child off, ordering me to go to sleep.

“Goodnight, slave mom.” Despite my mental preparation, I almost let my mother, who had suddenly gone limp, fall to the ground.

I first held her comfortably in my arms, then softly gave her a series of commands: I am invisible; Mom won't see me in the room, nor will she be curious about anything unusual.

Then, after making her forget everything except the commands, I regained my senses.

Mom had already said goodnight and turned to go back to her room. To test the effectiveness of the commands, I deliberately hurried after her, trying to block her way, but to my surprise, she completely ignored me and walked around me. It seems the commands didn't just make her invisible. Instead, I subconsciously eliminated all images that belonged to me.

Hypnosis is truly amazing.

I followed my mother into her bedroom. As soon as she closed the door, she eagerly began to remove her t-shirt and pajamas. Although she had forgotten the fact of masturbation in her mind, her body couldn't forget the pursuit of pleasure. What a lewd mother, I couldn't help but think.

Soon, my thoughts were drawn to my mother's half-naked appearance. She was wearing black lace lingerie, a matching bra and panties. The half-cup bra accentuated her breasts, making them appear almost spill out, white and plump. Based on my experience, they should be a D cup. Her thin panties were even more alluring, barely covering her large, smooth buttocks. A few stray hairs peeked out from her pubic area, probably due to masturbation after dinner. The panties seemed a little damp, clinging tightly to her private parts, clearly showing the shape of her labia.

As I admired the beautiful scenery, my mind wandered to thoughts of my mother's body, but her actions answered all my questions. She unhooked her bra, and her full breasts sprang out, like two giant white doves fluttering and swaying in the air. They were indeed a D-cup, slightly sagging but noticeably elastic; her areolas were deep red, like two tempting ripe grapes, ready to be plucked and tasted. Then, her panties came off, making me even more excited. My mother's pubic hair wasn't abundant, so I could see the shape of her vulva. Her flesh was pink, clearly indicating she didn't have much sex; it was still glistening with moisture, and up close, it was even slightly undulating, incredibly alluring and tempting. This sight put my penis on the verge of exploding, almost making me ejaculate onto my pants.

What happened next made me even more furious. My mother, having just undressed, lay down on the bed and, like a long-awaited woman, inserted her fingers into her vagina, gently kneading it. Soon, her clitoris peeked out, and my mother, as if discovering a treasure, swirled her fingers around it. Meanwhile, her other hand was also busy playing with her breasts, rubbing and pinching them until the nipples were about the thickness of a little finger.

I never expected my mother to be so methodical in everything she did, even her masturbation was so skillful. Watching her, my blood boiled, and I couldn't resist pulling out my penis. Less than a meter away from my mother, watching her lewd display, I began to masturbate.

I watched as my mother gradually got into the mood, using her fingers as a penis, thrusting them in and out of her vagina, starting with one finger and then increasing the number, the speed of the thrusts increasing, each time accompanied by a loud smacking sound and the release of white, foamy vaginal fluid. Her hands also increased the pressure of kneading her breasts, shaping them into various lewd forms. My mother made moaning sounds, tinged with a hint of crying, as if afraid of being discovered. She kept her voice low, trying to suppress the waves of pleasure.

But almost an hour passed, and despite her increasing vaginal discharge, she still hadn't reached orgasm.

Although she didn't understand why, she was tormented, her face a mixture of pain and pleasure. In pursuit of greater pleasure, she tried arching her back and inserting her fingers into herself from behind.

This was a boon for me; her plump buttocks swayed in front of me, her engorged vagina glistening with blood, even her most private anus was exposed, opening and closing with each thrust.

Seeing this lewd scene, I couldn't resist any longer. I grabbed the water glass from her bedside and ejaculated inside. Luckily, she was already lost in her own desire and didn't notice anything amiss. After

a short rest, I saw that she was exhausted but still unable to reach her climax. I felt the initial stimulation was enough, so I called out the command "Slave Mom" to my mother. She immediately fell into a hypnotic state, but her fingers remained on her vulva and breasts.

I commanded her to fall into a deep sleep and not wake up until the next morning, giving her a few more amusing instructions.

The next morning, I stood outside my mother's room and heard low but intense breathing coming from inside. I knew she was continuing last night's game, futilely trying to reach orgasm. However, orgasm is greatly influenced by psychology. If there is a psychological barrier, even the strongest physical stimulation cannot accumulate enough energy to break through it.

The dam I had erected in my mother's mind firmly blocked her pleasure, leaving her needs unmet, gradually succumbing to a sea of desire, until I guided this surging sea of desire to break through the barriers between us.

Of course, during this time, I wouldn't give up the opportunity to be close to my mother. After enduring so long, I had to give her something in return.

I knocked on my mother's door, pretending not to hear the moans inside. "Mom, get up?"

I only heard hurried and flustered voices from inside. Clearly, my mother hadn't expected me to get up so early, much less that I would wake her, and she was quickly getting ready.

When the door opened, my mother appeared before me, and my heart skipped a beat again. My mother had changed into a white silk nightgown, her snow-white, smooth arms and most of her beautiful legs exposed. A blush spread across my mother's face, and her usually bright and intelligent eyes were now filled with a hazy moisture, as if telling me of her unfulfilled desires, radiating the boundless heat of a mature woman. Even more alluring was that Mom wasn't wearing a bra; her still-erect nipples were clearly visible, like two beautiful roses in bloom. A large puddle of moisture clung to her genitals, and her dark, curly hair peeked through her clothes. I held my breath for a moment. Although I had seen Mom naked the night before, I wasn't used to gazing upon such a sight, and my little brother immediately sprang to attention.

Mom had never appeared before me dressed like this before, not even in the most hurried moments; she never forgot her manners.

But yesterday, I had hinted to her that she could dress lightly in front of me because I was her dearest son, and she wouldn't suspect or be offended by my impolite and blatant gaze. A son always clings to his mother; she would be happy and proud, and would be irresistibly drawn to my attention.

Therefore, when my burning gaze swept over her body, Mom didn't show much displeasure.

My mother's earlier infidelity made her feel guilty, and she didn't dare look me in the eye, her face flushing even more. "Why are you up so early, son?"

"Everyone gets up this early at university, we have to study early. Mom, I made you breakfast, come and eat."

"My son is so good, he's a grown-up now." My mother was quite moved and couldn't help but reach out and touch my face. The

feeling of her warm, delicate hand on my face was so nice; I wondered what it would feel like to hold my little brother.

For my grand plan, emotional investment was necessary. Besides my mother's own desire, her love for me was also one of my weapons. However, under my guidance, my mother would unconsciously transform her affection for me into love, into lust.

When my mother finished washing up and sat down at the table, she was still wearing that revealing nightgown. So that I could feast my eyes while enjoying breakfast. However, breakfast was just simple eggs, toast, and milk. However, the milk I specially prepared for my mother contained the semen I ejaculated the night before. With my subtle hints, she wouldn't notice the unusual taste.

When I saw her sip the lovingly prepared milk, one small mouthful at a time, and then lick her lips with lingering satisfaction, my penis was already rock hard, ready to explode. I desperately wanted to shove it into her lips and soothe myself.

I suppressed the surging urge within me. To make my mother willingly offer herself to me, I decided to use hypnosis to train her for a week before my father returned, making her my woman, my slave, even… my most lowly bitch.

My mother continued eating, elegant and charming, occasionally flashing me a toothy smile, thanking me for the unexpected breakfast, completely unaware of her son's lewd plans and the wonderful life that awaited her.

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A Record of Family Hypnotic Incest [2/2]

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