Family Hypnotic Erotic Chronicles (1-2) Author: Flying Pig

Family Hypnotic Erotic Chronicles

Author: Flying Pig
Published on: Fengyue Continent
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(I)

I am just an ordinary college boy, average in height and appearance, and my family is just okay. My father
is often away doing business, and my mother is a typical family parent, virtuous and kind.

The only thing worth praising is that my mother is definitely
one of the best . It's not that my mother is more youthful and beautiful than a twenty-year-old girl, but that my mother possesses
all the charm that a mature woman should have.

Putting aside her full and plump body (especially the part with a protruding front and buttocks), delicate and fair skin,
beautiful and well-defined facial features, and long, black and shiny hair that goes past her shoulders, just hearing her gentle and delicate voice,
seeing her kind smile and elegant and dignified demeanor, makes people sigh that the charm of a mature woman is
unmatched by a twenty-eight-year-old girl.

Speaking of myself, I'm not exactly a terrible person. My grades fluctuate, I can play basketball, and I'm a bit
outgoing, so I've dated a few girls, even going so far as to reach home base. But relationships
rarely last, because when I saw the girls I dated, I couldn't help but compare them to my mother,
finding fault with them in various ways, and things gradually cooled off.

Then one day, life started to change.

It was a typical customer psychology class, something I, as a marketing major,
was required to take. Normally, these classes are spent in a daze, but that
day, the teacher inexplicably started talking about other aspects of psychology,

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

At that moment, my little brother reacted—not to the ugly frog boy, of course,
but because at that moment, I thought of my dear mother. A stirring began to stir within me;
thoughts I'd never had before flooded the classroom, almost overwhelming me. I hurriedly left before class ended,
relieving myself several times in the restroom.

That night, in my dreams, I saw my mother repeatedly; her usually large, bright eyes had lost their sparkle, 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, 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 bought numerous videotapes; I even pretended to have psychological problems,
going to a psychologist to be hypnotized to learn techniques, only to find the tuition exorbitant. Finally, one
day, I realized that what I lacked was practice. At that time, summer vacation had arrived.

Stepping out of the airport terminal, I looked around and immediately spotted my mother in the crowd. She
was as beautiful as , 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. My mother saw me then, a bright smile spreading across her face as
she waved. I rushed over and gave her a hug.

At first, she stiffened slightly; although we were close, we hadn't been
this . But in an instant, she relaxed, her soft, boneless hands encircling my
back, gently pulling me closer.

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

I tilted my head back slightly, gazing at her beautiful face. Perhaps because she was going to pick me up, Mom had dressed up
specially . She had her hair permed into small waves, which were coiled on either side of her oval face. She also
wore a touch of pink lipstick, and a white pearl necklace was wrapped around her neck. Paired with her black long
dress , it made Mom look even more dignified and beautiful.

"Aren't you going to let go? How long are you going to hug Mom?" A
blush . Apparently, quite a few people around were watching us being so affectionate.

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

Mom, however, didn't seem to realize this. She didn't suspect her son was taking advantage of her at all, but she just 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. This white dress didn't evoke much of a motherly feeling; instead, it
felt more like flirting. But I knew this was just my fantasy; what I wanted, I had to fight for.

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

Back home, my mother started preparing dinner for me and changed into casual clothes. Because of the
hot weather in our city, her clothes, though not cheap, were very thin. After a busy day, 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, constantly radiating a fatal temptation. Although
I knew my mother was beautiful before, I never imagined she had such great appeal. My lower body was burning with desire, and I
immediately wanted to pounce on her.

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. Mom's cooking was 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 was preoccupied, I couldn't focus on
enjoying the food. I just answered Mom's questions half-heartedly, constantly thinking about how to
carry out my long-planned scheme.

After a satisfying meal, I said to Mom mysteriously, "Mom, I brought you a gift this time
. Wait for me to show it to you." Then I found a cardboard box in the package.

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

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

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

I chuckled inwardly. This was a special perfume I made for Mom, with added hallucinogenic drugs—of course it was different
! My face remained impassive. "This is the latest style I brought for Mom. Look closely, the bottle has
the most fashionable design."

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

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

As I spoke, I let Mom smell it again, and her eyes began to glaze over and lose focus. But she still
responded to what I was saying, continuing to listen 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 stare at each surface, don't you feel something different?"

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 gaze following the slowly rotating perfume bottle.

"Mom, look at this side. Isn't the light red? Red represents anger. You must
have many 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, to cherish her, to ravage her.

Although I was trembling with excitement, my last shred of consciousness 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 in a weak voice.

"Who am I?"

"You are my son."

"That's right, I am your son. Are you the one who loves me the most?"

"Yes, I am the one who loves you the most."

"When I'm happy, are you happy too?"

"Yes."

"When I'm in pain, are you in pain too?"

"Yes."

"Whatever I want, you will do for me?"

"Yes."

"That means you can do anything for me?"

"Yes."

"I can make you do anything?"

"Yes." Mom didn't notice the logical difference and just answered obediently.

"A master can order 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." Under hypnosis, the mother could only think in a linear fashion.

"The master's happiness is your greatest happiness; obeying all of the master's commands will make you feel utterly liberated."
"Song, if you have any thoughts of rebelling against your master, you will feel cold and uncomfortable all over." I continued to brainwash my mother,
instilling in her the slave worldview I had already drafted. After about an hour of repeated confirmation, my mother
finally subconsciously confirmed that I was the master.

As my mother slowly turned into my beautiful flesh, I could no longer suppress the hunger in my heart, and reached out
to enjoy the real feast, extending my devilish claws to the plump breasts I had long coveted.

Who knew that as soon as I touched my mother's chest, before I even had a chance to rub it vigorously, my mother began
to tremble slightly in resistance, and beads of sweat appeared on her face. I didn't expect that my mother was still so resistant in her heart. Even
under hypnosis, incest was a taboo for her, and there were some parts of her body that her son could not touch.

Hypnosis cannot force people to do things they hate. Knowing this, I was not without a countermeasure.

(II)

It was expected that my mother would resist me. After all, I am her son. Even in her dreams, she
would not 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 could simply hint to her that I'm not her
son, but her husband, and she would readily agree.

But that's not the outcome I want. I want to unite with her as her son, to make her willingly
my sex slave, my possession. For the past few months, I've craved this constantly. For
this outcome, I'm even willing to give up the pleasure that's 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."

"You can't enjoy sex when your husband isn't around, 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 yourself?"

"Yes." I never expected my mother to have this side to
her .

"Do you masturbate often?"

"Rarely."

"Your husband has been away from you for several days, and you're especially thirsty today, desperately craving his touch. Your
body is gradually getting hot and itchy, hoping someone will touch you." I described every imaginable
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 her vulva and gently pressed it down through her clothes. My mother
let a soft moan and frowned.

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

My mother's hand began to rub her vulva without regard for others. 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 grew louder.

I had never imagined seeing my mother masturbate in front of me, much less that her aroused
expression could be so captivating. Her delicate brows furrowed and relaxed slightly, as if expressing her inner turmoil and pleasure. Beads of sweat glistened on the tip of her
fine nose, whether from the heat or passion, I couldn't tell. Her slightly parted lips emitted a warm, wet sigh
, utterly alluring. Her thin white t-shirt was already soaked with sweat, revealing glimpses of her ivory-like
skin, especially the large patch of snow-white skin on 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, my mother was wearing
a pair of 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 quite have the maturity and mystery she possessed when she wore stockings.

Gradually, faint wetness appeared on the front of her pajamas near her vulva. My mother's body writhed more
violently , and the frequency of her finger movements increased. I saw her toes begin to straighten, as if she were about to climax
. I quickly grabbed her rapidly waving right hand, stopping her movements.

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

My mother frowned, her expression one of extreme reluctance. But because of my previous strong suggestion,
she obediently stopped. However, the soft moans from her lips and the lingering flush clearly
told me of her unsatisfied desire.

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

"When I say 'Open Sesame' to you in a moment, you will wake up and forget
everything . You will only remember that we were chatting and you liked my gift. You
won't suspect anything about the strange things in your body; it's all just because it's too hot. But every time you hear me say 'Slave Mom
,' you will return to your current state. I am both your son and your master, and you must obey my
commands."

"Yes, ma'am," Mom replied obediently.

"Now, Open Sesame."

Mom's tightly closed eyes opened instantly, regaining their usual radiance. Although the effects of the hallucinogenic drug had
n't completely worn off, Mom's consciousness 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 chatting for half the night, 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." Even though I was mentally prepared, Mom almost collapsed
to the ground.

I first held her comfortably in my arms, and then whispered a series of commands: I am invisible,
Mom cannot see me in the room, and will not be curious about anything special.

Then, after Mom forgot 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 the commands, I deliberately hurried after
Mom, trying to block her way, but Mom ignored me completely and actually walked around me.
It seems that the effect of the commands was not to make Mom unable to see me, but to subconsciously exclude all images of me.

Hypnosis is truly amazing.

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

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

As I admired this sight and indulged in fantasies about Mom's body, Mom's 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 a 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 vulva 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 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 finding 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 then increasing the number, the speed of the thrusts increasing, each time accompanied by a loud smacking sound as she released
white, foamy 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 sob, as if afraid I would discover her. She kept her voice
low , trying to suppress the waves of pleasure.

But almost an hour passed, and 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 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 blooming, beautiful roses, and her pubic area was...
A large puddle of water stained the area, and dark, curly hair was faintly visible beneath the clothing. I held
my breath . Although I had seen my mother naked the night before, I wasn't used to seeing such a sight in its entirety, and my little brother immediately
stood up in respect.

My mother had never... (The sentence is incomplete and ends abruptly.)

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