Family Hypnotic Eroticism

I'm just an ordinary college boy, average in height and looks, and my family is just okay. My father
is often away on business, and my mother is a typical stay-at-home mom, virtuous and kind.

The only thing I can boast about is that my mother is definitely
outstanding . It's not that she's more youthful and beautiful than a twenty-year-old, but she possesses
all the charm of a mature woman.

Putting aside her full, voluptuous figure (especially her curves), delicate, fair skin,
beautiful and well-defined features, and long, glossy black hair that reaches past her shoulders, just hearing her gentle, delicate voice,
seeing her kind smile, and her elegant and dignified demeanor is enough to make one sigh that the charm of a mature woman is
unmatched by a twenty-eight-year-old girl.

As for myself, I'm not terrible either. My grades are sometimes good and sometimes bad, I can play basketball, and I'm a bit
outgoing, so I've dated a few girls, and even progressed to casual sex. But such feelings
are rarely lasting. Seeing the girls I dated, I couldn't help but compare them to my mother,
finding fault with them in various ways, and gradually my feelings cooled, leading to nothing.

Then one day, life changed.

It was a typical customer psychology class, a required course for marketing students
. Normally, these classes are spent in a daze, but that
day, the teacher inexplicably started talking about other aspects of psychology, somehow leading to hypnosis.

One student, skeptical, bet the teacher he couldn't be hypnotized and volunteered to demonstrate.
The teacher not only successfully put him to sleep but even got him to sing a song.

Seeing this, my little brother reacted—not to the ugly frog-like boy, of course,
but because at that moment, I thought of my dear mother. My heart began to stir; unprecedented
thoughts flooded the classroom, almost overwhelming me. Before the class ended, I hurriedly left,
relieving myself several times in the restroom.

That night, in my dream, I saw my mother again and again. Her usually large, bright eyes had lost their luster, and she
sat slumped in her chair like a puppet, and I was the one manipulating the puppet strings. Before I could even
command her to do anything indecent in my dream, I couldn't help but ejaculate again.

From then on, I changed my lazy study habits, becoming a regular at the library, voraciously
reading about hypnosis and psychology; I also bought a large number of videotapes; I even pretended to have psychological problems and
went to a psychologist's clinic to be hypnotized by a doctor to learn techniques, only to find that the tuition was exorbitant. Finally, one
day, I realized that what I lacked was practice. At that time, summer vacation had just arrived.

Stepping out of the airport terminal, I looked around and immediately spotted my mother in the crowd. She
was still so beautiful, her charming and delicate face and mature, alluring figure
making her the center of attention wherever she went.

A quick glance revealed at least five or six men secretly observing her,
including two foreigners. Mom saw me then, a bright smile spreading across her face. She raised her hand
and waved. I rushed over to her and gave her a hug. At first,

Mom was a little stiff; although we were close, we hadn't been
this . But in an instant, Mom relaxed, her soft, boneless hands encircling my
back, gently pulling me into a hug.

"You naughty boy, how can you do this to your mother in public?" I could hear
a hint , but it also held joy; after all, I was her favorite son.

I tilted my head back slightly, gazing at Mom's beautiful face. Perhaps because she was going out to pick me up, Mom had dressed up
specially hair was styled in small waves, framing her oval face, and
she wore a touch of pink lipstick. A white pearl necklace encircled her neck, complementing her black
long dress , making her even more dignified and beautiful.

"Aren't you going to let go? How long are you going to hug Mommy?" A
blush ; apparently, quite a few people around were staring at us because they saw us being so affectionate.

"Let them look, what's wrong with that? Who told me I have such a beautiful mother?" I retorted, tightening my
grip on her. This hug pressed Mommy's full, high breasts tightly against my chest.
Through the thin fabric, I could feel the amazing elasticity and warmth of her breasts, and my lower body instantly became incredibly
hard .

Mommy, however, seemed oblivious to this, showing no suspicion that her son was taking advantage of her, but simply pushed me away
shyly . "How come you've become so glib since you went to school?" she said, giving me a
disapproving glare.

My heart skipped a beat; that glare didn't feel like a motherly gesture, but rather like playful banter
. But I knew this was just my fantasy; what I wanted, I had to fight for myself.

On the way, I learned that Daddy had gone abroad for a conference and wouldn't be back for over a week.

When we got home, Mommy started preparing dinner for me and changed into casual clothes. Because of the hot weather in the city
, my mother's clothes, though not cheap, were very thin. After a long day of work, she was
slightly sweaty, and her clothes clung tightly to her body, outlining her incredibly alluring figure.

I pretended to sit in the living room watching TV, but my eyes kept drifting to my mother, stealing glances at her ample breasts and
buttocks , especially the swaying motion she made as she walked, which constantly exuded a fatal temptation. Although
I knew my mother was beautiful before, I never imagined she was so attractive. My lower body was burning with desire, and I wanted to pounce on her
immediately .

I kept reminding myself to stay calm, to stay calm for the dirty plan I was about to carry out, for the sake of
possessing .

Finally, it was dinnertime. My mother's dishes were as delicious as ever, a sumptuous and well-balanced meal that gave me
a taste of something I couldn't enjoy outside. But because I had something on my mind, I couldn't focus on
enjoying the food. I just answered my mother's questions half-heartedly, constantly thinking about how to
carry out my long-planned scheme.

After a satisfying meal, I said to my mother mysteriously, "Mom, I brought you a gift this time."
"Oh, wait, I'll show you." With that, she found a cardboard box in the package she'd brought back.

"Thank you, son, for remembering your mother so well. What is it?"

I took out an exquisite bottle—a small bottle of the new Chanel perfume.
I opened the cap and handed it to my mother. "Smell it, do you like the scent?"

My mother leaned in, her beautiful nostrils twitching slightly. "It smells wonderful, but
it's a little different from my previous perfumes."

I chuckled inwardly; this was a specially made perfume for my mother, containing hallucinogenic drugs—of course it was different
. But my face remained impassive: "This is the latest style I brought for you, Mom. Look closely, the bottle has
the most fashionable design."

I slowly turned the bottle; the crystal-clear, multifaceted perfume bottle shimmered with different colors under the light, like
a glittering starry sky.

"Mom, look closely. It's said that each side of the perfume bottle looks different in color and
luster . The perfume is called Laziquatig, after a sacred
tree in Greek mythology. It's said that each fruit from this tree has a different flavor and color. And this
perfume is said to have a different scent every time you smell it."

As I spoke, I let Mom smell it again. Her eyes began to glaze over and lose focus. But she still
responded to what I was saying, insisting on listening attentively.

I continued, reciting the lines I'd practiced hundreds of times: "Mom, keep looking at
this bottle. See, don't these different surfaces represent different colors, different moods
? If you gaze at each surface, won't you have different feelings?"

Mom seemed to be gradually losing her judgment. The effects of the hallucinogenic drug, combined with the changing light, made
her involuntarily obey me, her eyes following the slowly rotating perfume bottle.

"Mom, look at this side. Isn't the light red? Red represents anger. You must
have a lot of angry things in your life, and you must really want to resolve them. And this side is blue. Blue
represents monotony. You must have many boring and empty moments at home, and you must sometimes want to change this boring
life. This side is yellow. Yellow looks dirty. As a housewife, you must hate dirty
things the most..." I cleverly replaced each color with something unpleasant. A

look of discomfort slowly appeared on Mom's face. She seemed to want to turn her head away, but she couldn't move and could only
continue listening to me.

"Mom, do you want to get rid of these awful colors? You must really want to close your eyes and forget about these things
. But you can't forget them now. Even if you close your eyes, these colors and these annoying things will still
appear before your eyes."

"Now, your son will teach you a way. Close your eyes and count from ten to one. Each time you count, exhale,
and a color will disappear from your eyes, representing the same annoying thing. You will
feel incredibly relaxed and comfortable. After you finish counting, there will be no color in your mind, only the
warmest black. You will enter the deepest, most profound sleep. You won't feel any movement, only hear
the voice of your beloved son. Now start counting."

Mom obediently closed her eyes, but her eyelids were still trembling violently. However, with each exhale
, her eyelids moved more and more slowly, finally coming to rest. Mom's whole body
seemed to have lost all its strength, collapsing into the dining chair like the most beautiful porcelain
doll , only with a touch more life.

My lower body was already swollen and painful. I felt as if I were under the influence of hallucinogenic drugs, vaguely
facing this most beautiful dream, gazing at the woman I loved most, quietly, motionless, letting me do as I pleased, letting me cherish
her , letting me ravage her.

Although I was trembling with excitement, the last shred of my sanity told me that I had to protect this hard-won
achievement and couldn't immediately lay a hand on my mother.

"Mom, can you hear me?" I whispered in my mother's ear.

"Mmm..." my mother answered weakly. "

Who am I

?"

"You are my son." "That's right, I am your son. Are n't you the one who loves me the most?" "Yes

, I am the one who loves you the most. " "Is my happiness your happiness? " "Yes." "Is my pain your pain? " " Yes ." " Is there anything I want that you would do for me?" "Yes." "That means you can do anything for me?" "Yes." "I can make you do anything?" "Yes." My mother didn't notice the logical difference and just answered obediently. "A master can command a slave to do anything, so I am the master and you are the slave?" "Yes..." Mom hesitated for a moment before replying. "Repeat it, I am the master, you are the slave." "You are the master, I am the slave." I made Mom repeat it several times, both to deepen her obedience and for my own pleasure . The words of obedience flowed from Mom's red lips and white teeth, making me even more excited, as if I was about to explode . I had never felt this way when I had sex with those schoolgirls before. "Then, I am both your son and your master." "You are both my son and my master." Mom could only think in a straight line under hypnosis. "The master's pleasure is your greatest pleasure. Obeying all of the master's commands will make you feel incredibly relaxed . If you have any thoughts of resisting the master, you will feel cold and uncomfortable all over." I continued to brainwash Mom, instilling in her the slave worldview I had already drafted. After about an hour of repeated confirmation, Mom finally subconsciously confirmed the fact that I was the master. Watching my mother slowly transform into my flesh, I could no longer suppress my hunger. I reached out to enjoy the real feast, my claws reaching for the plump breasts I had long coveted. But no sooner had I touched her breasts than she began to tremble slightly in resistance, beads of sweat forming on her face. I hadn't expected her to resist so much, even though...

During hypnosis, incest was also off-limits to her; certain parts of her body were off-limits to her son's touch.

Knowing that hypnosis cannot force people to do things they dislike, I wasn't without a plan.

(II)

It was expected that my mother would resist me; after all, I was 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 outcome I wanted. I wanted to unite with her as her son, to make her willingly
become my sex slave, my possession. For the past few months, I had been yearning for this constantly. For
this outcome, 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 .

"Do you masturbate often?"

"Rarely."

"Your husband has been away 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 to my mother. I saw her face gradually turn red, and her body seemed to react,
shifting slightly restlessly. I wondered what kind of fantasy 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. You especially need your own
comfort right now."

My mother's hand began to rub her vulva as if no one else was there. Even through the 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 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 furrowed and relaxed slightly, as if she were expressing her inner turmoil and joy. Beads of sweat glistened on the tip of her
fine nose, whether from the heat or from passion, I couldn't tell. 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
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 from moving it any further.

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

Although she frowned, showing extreme reluctance,
she obediently stopped because of my previous strong suggestion. However, the soft moans between her lips and tongue, 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 feel this way. You'll always 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 come to your senses, forget
everything , and you'll only remember that we were talking and that you liked my gift. You
won't have any doubts about the strangeness in your body; 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'm both your son and your master, and you must obey my
commands."

"Understood," my mother replied 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 returned.

"Thank you, son. Mom really likes this perfume." Mom automatically resumed the conversation from before the hypnosis.

"You're welcome. I knew Mom would like it." I tried my best to give Mom the purest smile,
but I was already looking forward to the show that night.

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

"Goodnight." Mom escorted me to my room like a child, ordering me to go to sleep.

"Goodnight, slave mom." Despite being mentally prepared, I almost made Mom, who suddenly went limp,
fall to the ground.

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

Then, after making Mom forget everything except the commands, she regained consciousness.

Mom had already said goodnight and turned to go back to her room. To test the effectiveness of my command, I deliberately quickened my pace to catch up with
my mother, trying to block her way. But to my surprise, she completely ignored me and walked around me.
The effect of the command wasn't to make my mother unable to see me, but rather to subconsciously eliminate all images belonging 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 pajama pants. Although my mother 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,
the bra and panties were a matching set, the demi-cup bra making her breasts almost spill out, fair and plump,
based on my experience, probably a D cup; the thin panties were even more alluring, barely covering my mother's
large, smooth buttocks, and 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 my mother's 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 she 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 entire 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 was even more shocking. 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 twisting 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 increasing the speed. Each thrust produced
a soft, frothy sound as she released her vaginal fluid. Her hands, kneading her breasts, also increased the pressure, shaping them into various lewd forms. My mother
made moaning sounds, tinged with a hint of crying, perhaps trying to hide her pleasure from me. She kept her voice
low , suppressing the waves of pleasure.

But after almost an hour, despite her increasing fluids, 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's a psychological barrier, even the strongest physical stimulation won't build 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 immersing her in 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 all the time I'd endured, I had to give her something in
return.

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

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

When the door opened, my mother appeared before me, and my heart skipped a beat. She had changed into
a white silk nightgown, her smooth, white arms and most of her beautiful legs exposed.
The blush on her face hadn't faded, and her usually bright and intelligent eyes were 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 she wasn't wearing a bra; her
still-erect nipples were clearly visible, like two beautiful roses in bloom. A large puddle of moisture
clung dark, curly hair was faintly visible beneath her clothing. I held
my breath for a moment. Although I had seen my mother naked last night, I wasn't used to seeing such a sight, and my little brother immediately
became .

My mother has never appeared before me dressed like this, not even in the most hurried moments; she never forgets
etiquette.

But yesterday, I hinted to her that she could dress lightly in front of me because I
am her dearest son, and she wouldn't suspect or be upset by my rude and blatant staring.
A son always adores his mother, and she would be happy and proud of it, unconsciously drawing my
attention .

Therefore, when my burning gaze swept over her, my mother didn't show much displeasure. Only her recent infidelity made her feel guilty; she couldn't look me in the eye, and her face flushed even more: "Why are you up so early,

son ?"

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

"My son is so good, he's all grown up now." Mom was quite touched 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 wonder what it would feel like .

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

When Mom 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.
Except , the milk I specially made for Mom had my semen floating in it from last night. With my hints, Mom
wouldn't notice the strange taste of the milk.

When I saw my mother sip the milk I had lovingly given her, taking tiny sips, and then
licking her lips with a lingering satisfaction, my penis was already rock hard, ready to explode. I really 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 in the week before my father returned, to make 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 was about to unfold.

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