The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Later on that morning, just before lunch, mum came and sat down opposite me while I rested and read in the lounge. I had decided while reading that no matter how happy I’d ever be in a place of my own, there would never be any place more comfortable for me mentally, than home. I took the fresh coffee she had made me and smiled.

‘Steven,’ she said quietly, then sipped her coffee and sighed. I emulated her, but I didn’t like the loom on her face. The hairs on my forearms began to prickle a little. That wasn’t a good sigh at the best of times. I raised my eyebrows in reply, then said:

‘What, Mum?’

She smiled and sipped her coffee and sighed again, obviously thinking deeply about something.

‘You hypnotized me without my permission,’ she said, as if telling me she had discovered a dirty secret I had.

‘But by accident,’ I corrected her.

‘I know, but you did it,’ she said, asserting the fact, ‘and I remembered you did.’

‘I know.’ I replied, sipping and sighing. She did the same then, but her eyes never left mine. My forearms kept prickling.

‘Could you have made it so that I didn’t remember?’ She asked quietly, and, I thought, very seriously.

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I think so. An amnesia suggestion, if accepted, usually works well.’

‘For how long,’ she asked immediately. I’d never seen my mother’s eyes as wide as saucers before. It gave a whole new meaning to the phrase, “Dedicated Mum.”

‘I’m not sure, actually.’ I answered honestly. ‘Some suggestions stay only a short while and some stay forever, I’ve read. I think it depends upon how deep the person is into their trance and how willingly they accept the suggestion to forget everything when they wake up.’

‘That’s interesting,’ she murmured, then sipped and sighed again.

‘I think,’ I went on with a line of thought, ‘that if what it is you want them to forget, they’d really rather not remember when they left trance then they would. Or if they felt, even in the trance state, that it would be in their own best interests not to remember, then the suggestion to forget whatever it is might very well become permanent, simply because they really don’t want to remember, themselves.’

‘That makes sense,’ mum answered, seemingly deep in thought over it.

‘I haven’t done a lot of practice with amnesia, mum,’ I admitted, ‘but what I have done seems to have worked at the time.’

Mum then looked directly at me and placed her coffee cup down on the table.

‘Steven,’ she said seriously, ‘do it to me.’

For the second time that day it seemed that coffee was destined to stream from my nostril, along with my eyes watering madly. Mum got up and quickly got some tissues then brought them back to me so I could clean myself up. Then she sat down again and drew up her knees, clasping her arms about them as she sat and watched me.

‘What’s the matter with you, Stevie?’ She asked, grinning. ‘Don’t you like my coffee anymore?’

I coughed again and grinned stupidly. If only she knew about the snake in my pants earlier at the kitchen table.

‘Coffee’s great, as usual.’ I answered ‘It’s your timing that seems to be all wrong.’ Then I added, ‘or it’s mine.’

She laughed and I did, too.

‘Do it to me, Stevie,’ she repeated without notice, but I was safe. My coffee or what was left of it was down on the table. I grinned, but she didn’t.

‘Do what?’ I asked, suddenly needing her to be very specific.

‘Hypnotize me and make me forget.’

‘Forget what?’ I asked, lost.

‘Anything,’ she answered.

‘How will you know if it’s worked?’ I asked. ‘If you can’t remember?’

‘Well, I’ll just have take your word for it, won’t I?’ She said. ‘Besides, you wouldn’t lie to me, I know.’ Then she added, ‘Well, you could try, I suppose, but you know I’d know, sometime, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I said, because she always had done in the past. I’d given up lying to her as a bad joke when I was ten. It never worked. She always seemed to know.

‘Do it to me, Baby, please?’

I was starting to wish she wouldn’t use that particular phrase. I was beginning to feel a bit odd again.

‘I wouldn’t know what to make you forget,’ I said, still lost as to how the scenario was going to end. I had no idea. I just felt odd.

‘Well, think of something!’ She said then, impressing upon me just how serious she was. She didn’t have to. I knew. ‘Make me do something I wouldn’t normally do and then make me willingly accept that I’ll forget it when I wake up.’

‘Like what?’ I asked, still lost and still feeling definitely odd, even odder than I had been. ‘And you don’t go to sleep, mum, you go into trance.’

‘Seems like sleep,’ she said immediately, then proceeded to put that, ‘Do not disturb your mother, she’s thinking now,” look on her face while she sipped and sighed her coffee several times. I did the same and grew odder by the second, wondering what I could suggest she do that she normally wouldn’t and then make her permanently forget she’d ever done it. Seemed like a perfectly pointless exercise to me, except for my knowing that it had worked, of course, and then telling her that it had. Finally, she sighed, frustrated. I know that sigh. It’s different to all her others. I couldn’t stand it, any of it, any longer.

‘Mum?’ I called. She looked up. ‘Good girl,’ I said firmly.

‘Wait! I’m not read-ohh!’ She sighed, or it might have been a gasp of surprise as the wave of hypnotic relaxation hit her. I don’t know. What I do know was that she just seemed to deflate right there on her chair in front of me with her knees drawn up and her arms clasped around her knees. I was glad she’d already put her coffee down on the table while she’d been thinking.

Her head gently fell forward and she sighed softly again as she exhaled. I decided upon the direct approach and felt a line of thought coming on that made me feel even more odd, but I knew I was going to proceed with it, no matter what, just to finish the scene and get on with my day. I could live with it and she’d have to for the sake of the exercise she seemingly wanted to do so badly.

‘Mum?’ I called soothingly.

‘Yes,’ she answered quietly.

‘Are you hypnotized?’

‘Yes,’ she replied softly and then she sighed.

‘How do you know?’ I asked, smiling.

‘Feel differently,’ she answered, then added, ‘not normal.’

She’s got that right, I thought-nothing about the whole fucking thing was normal, nothing, including her unbounded enthusiasm for hypnosis. It seemed as if she’d discovered the fountain of youth with just the thought of hypnotism, and, it was my fault. A wave of light guilt washed over me, but I shrugged it off, for the moment, at least anyway.

‘Are you deep enough in hypnosis to forget anything?’ I asked her, flying completely blind for the moment by choice while I thought.

She was silent for a good minute before finally answering: ‘I ... I don’t... think so.’ Then she sighed thoughtfully. Then her arms gently fell down from their light grasp around her knees and she seemed to relax a little more.

‘When I count to three and snap my fingers, imagine in any way you want to, mum,’ I said, ‘that you’re going deeper and deeper into hypnosis. So deep, in fact, that you’ll eventually reach a depth where you’ll easily be willing and able to forget everything I tell you to not remember.’

I counted to three and snapped my fingers loudly. She sighed and relaxed. Her head fell even more toward one side and now rested back against the lounge chair. Picking up my coffee, I sipped and sighed quietly for almost five full minutes. In fact, I thought she’d gone to sleep, she was breathing that deeply. Her mouth had come open a little way and her head was really inclined downward as it rested on the back of the chair. I was about to test her when she spoke, lazily and quietly.

‘Nowww,’ she mostly breathed, rather than spoke. I put my coffee down and picked up my heart rate instead.

‘Mum, are you really, willing and able to accept any suggestion of forgetting whatever I tell you to?’ I asked her point blank.

‘Mmmm,’ she murmured softly.

‘Good girl,’ I said then without thinking, then she sighed deeply. I smiled, amazed as always with hypnosis and the effect of post-hypnotic triggers.

‘Take yourself down even deeper now, Mum,’ I told her, ‘just to make sure that you’re ready, willing and able to easily forget everything I don’t want you to remember, but this time, because you, yourself, don’t want to remember.’

‘Mmmm,’ came her murmured answer and five full minutes later, she was there, somewhere.

‘Are you there?’ I asked, then added, ‘You can speak clearly and stay at that very deep level of hypnosis where you now don’t want to remember anything I tell you to forget.’

‘Yes,’ she said immediately, ‘I’m there.’

I was surprised at the quick change of speech. Then I thought and thought for a few seconds and then smiled. It was show time!

‘Mum,’ I began firmly, ‘in a few moments, when I snap my fingers and not before, you’re going to feel really good and wide awake. But, in fact, you’ll still be right where you are now, at the very peaceful and deep level where you don’t want to remember anything I tell you to forget. Is that clear?’

‘Yes,’ she said right away.

‘Good girl,’ I said, then snapped my fingers loudly. In reacting to both her trance trigger and the instruction regarding the snapping of my fingers, Mum sighed and opened her eyes at the same time. I had to admit that it certainly looked like a very relaxing way to leave a hypnotic trance. I decided to remember that one. Her eyes opened wide and she stretched then smiled broadly at me. Then she licked her lips from the dry mouth she must have had, relaxing in trance with her mouth open. Then she smiled again.

‘Why do you look so happy?’ I asked her, for no other reason than she did. She grinned that cheeky grin at me, the one I knew and was used to.

‘Because of where I am,’ she answered clearly, but a little quietly.

‘Where’s that?’ I asked, curious at her answer.

‘Where I don’t want to remember anything you tell me to forget,’ she replied quietly and clearly, still looking at me like a little schoolgirl, but still grinning.

I was not impressed with the way my cock jerked, not at all.

‘You seem glad to be there,’ I said then, uncomfortable with where I was, let alone where she was.

‘I am,’ she said, sounding a little softer in voice.

‘Why?’ I asked, still curious.

‘Because now you can tell me that it works when you wake me up,’ she said clearly, but seemed to be getting quieter. I leaned forward. Her face was wide-awake, or it seemed to be, at any rate. Her eyes were clear and bright and her features showed nothing but calm.

‘That’s absolutely right,’ was all I could think of to say. Then she surprised me.

‘Absolutely,’ she repeated my last word and smiled at me like a cat who’d eaten a canary.

‘Good girl,’ I said for something to say. It came so easily to my lips. Mum just sighed and then smiled softly while looking directly into my eyes. I decided to get going somewhere, anywhere.

‘Now, Mum, you have to tell me what you wouldn’t normally do, so I can then make you willingly do it because you’re hypnotized and won’t be able to resist.’ I said then. ‘That way, when I bring you back from where you are now in trance, you won’t be able to remember you did it until I tell you. That’s what you wanted to prove to yourself. Didn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she smiled softly, ‘That’s what I needed to prove.’

‘Good girl,’ I said and watched her sigh and smile straight at me. Her eyes were deep and milky; the usual look for a person that deep into hypnosis, I’d experienced so far with my practice. ‘Now,’ I continued, putting the ball back squarely in her court, ‘tell me what you would never normally do under any circumstances, whatsoever, no matter how much it might embarrass you.’

Looking directly into my eyes with the softest smile I had ever seen on my mother’s face in all the years I had known her she said clearly, but very quietly:

‘I would never allow you to see me without clothes on, Steven.’

I won’t ell you how disgusted I instantly became with my body and a certain mostly useless appendage that hung off it, but I was. I really was. Mum was still smiling at me, clearly not embarrassed by her remarkably honest, but completely normal when you come to think of it, statement. In fact, I had to lower my eyes from her somewhat direct gaze because it was I who was becoming embarrassed, I think.

‘No,’ I said quietly, ‘I wouldn’t expect that you would.’

I sat there for a few moments just gazing at her, my deeply entranced mother. The whole thing we were doing and what I was feeling, including what my rebellious and unconscionable body was attempting to do was definitely giving me the oddest feeling I’ve ever had in my life. It was non-sexual, but it wasn’t because I was experiencing a sexual rush. Somehow, however, I don’t think it was because of her. I think it was because I was using hypnosis to “control” her, and, against her wishes, which was what she’d wanted me to do, anyway.

Nevertheless, I was definitely turned on, sexually. Of that, there was no doubt, whatsoever. But it had nothing to do with the thought of seeing my mother naked.

No, I decided, it was the thought that I “could” see my mother naked if I wanted to, and, definitely against her wishes. Yes, that was it, I finally concluded in my mind-I could if I wanted to. I focussed on her gently smiling eyes once more and smiled, then felt embarrassed for some reason. Then, for some reason, I knew why, and, I strongly believed that somehow, she did, too.

‘Mum,’ I began quietly, ‘you know what I’m going to tell you to do and then forget when you wake up, don’t you?’

My mother is something; did I ever tell you that? She just looked right at me and smiled softly, then nodded, but she didn’t say anything, not a single word, and she didn’t look away or break my gaze. What she did do for me, however, was to show me that she’d somehow read my mind or my thoughts. In front of my eyes, she proceeded to rapidly blush the deepest red I’d ever seen on her skin, redder than sunburn, and I had seen her that way a few times, from her neck, all the way up over her face to her forehead. But, this was much redder.

Actually, I couldn’t remember ever seeing mum blush, but boy, was she blushing now. Suddenly, I felt very hot under my shirt and bothered under my trousers. My forehead felt clammy, as if I was going to faint. I wasn’t, but I had once, and remembered how I felt, just before I hit the floor in the supermarket. I was forced to wake up almost immediately, however, when an old lady ran straight over me with her shopping trolley because I’d fallen directly into her path. It was the additional pain, I think, that woke me up, the type of pain that the little wheels make when they run over your ear.

‘You know I could make you do that willingly, mum,’ I said, ‘if I wanted to, don’t you?’

She only looked at me steadily, smiling softly and holding my gaze in hers. But, she still blushing, like a beauty. She said nothing, but then slowly, she nodded. I felt the rush at her admission, and then the rest of me felt it surely. Odd wasn’t the way to describe how I felt right then, but I was strongly attracted sexually to the control aspect of my mother’s mental capture, that was for sure.

‘Do you think I would, mum?’ I asked, enjoying something I knew I shouldn’t have been.

She held my gaze and smiled softly still, but said nothing, just continued to blush. Tiny beads of sweat had broken out across her forehead. It glistened while beneath my armpits I just plain sweated from nervousness or sexual tension. I hadn’t yet figured out which.

‘Right now, Steven,’ she said quietly, ‘I honestly don’t know whether you’d do it or not.’

That was a first. It was the only time in my life I had ever heard my mother say that she didn’t have any idea of what I was going to do. She had usually always known or suspected before I knew myself. Then suddenly, and unexpectedly, mum put it right back on me.

‘Would you, Steven?’ She asked quietly, staring softly into my eyes from only a few feet away on her chair. I was flustered for an answer and searched for the strength to continue to hold her gaze as evenly as she was holding mine.

‘I might,’ I said, for want of an easy answer, simply because I didn’t have one. I think when mum realized that even I didn’t know whether I would or not, it made me dangerous and a potential candidate to actually do it, sort of like a loose cannon waiting to go off. She blushed even more deeply. Her skin turned a deep crimson scarlet in front of my eyes and only then did she look away and down at the floor. The tiny beads of sweat lining her entire forehead were really obvious now, as was the sweat running down my ribs. My heart raced. I could feel it in the pulse in my temples. I wondered then what mum’s physiology was behaving like.

‘Steven,’ was all she said in her obvious distress at the potential of what I might do. Her gaze had remained downcast to the floor as she’d spoken. I was glad.

‘I might,’ was all I could think of to say and still try and hold her gaze as she quickly looked up at me again with those soft smiling eyes. ‘I have to make you do something you would never do in a pink fit. That way, you can then willingly forget it. That’s what you wanted me to do when you started this whole thing, remember?’

‘I remember,’ she said quietly.

‘Not for long, you won’t, mum,’ I said then without choosing the words, ‘but I always will, won’t I?’

‘Oh!’ She gasped. And that must have been it for mum because her blushing then ran supreme with her mind and body. The tiny beads of sweat lining her forehead were suddenly not so tiny anymore. She dropped her gaze quickly, then, just as quickly, she looked back up at me, as if realizing in full context that, although she might willingly forget, her son would always remember that he had seen his mother naked, but, that she wouldn’t.

‘Steven!’ She said quietly, but urgently. ‘Please don’t!’

She was almost whispering in a hard hushed tone, as if someone might be listening. I hardened instantly from the controlling aspect alone. I had no intention of seeing my mother naked, I didn’t think, at that stage, but I swear I was going to blow my bolt for sure if I kept up this line of action and thought. What a power trip. What a fucking power trip.

‘Stand up, mum,’ I said without thinking then. I don’t know why. I just did. She did not hesitate and rose from her chair to gaze down at me with those softly smiling eyes. I didn’t think her very intelligent mind was smiling, though, right then.

‘Oh!’ Was all she said.

‘Good girl,’ I said, watching her sigh softly and still smile, would you believe? She was still smiling and not knowing what I was about to do. Neither did I.

‘Steven!’ She hushed. ‘Please don’t!’

‘Turn around,’ I said and she did, without delay.

‘Oh!’ She gasped again. My cock surged inside the leg of my trousers at the uncertain and the unknown. My heart raced with the words that formed in my throat and then my mouth and then across my lips as they flowed out without my trying to stop them in any way.

‘Turn around, mum, then pull down your slacks down to your knees,’ I told her, with the shakiest breath I’d ever heard leave my mouth.

‘Oh! Mum gasped, now sounding as desperate as I was hard, but she turned around casually around to face away from me, only three feet away from my face. I didn’t really know what I was doing or where I was going with this, but I knew I couldn’t stop now, even if I’d wanted to.

‘Oh, Steven!’ She gasped urgently again, but her hands then went around to the front of her. Then I saw them relax as she pulled her dark brown slacks all the way down over her hips, buttocks and thighs and held them in place at her knees, with her knees, leaving my gaze racing around her full, but firm buttocks that were still dressed in blue underwear.

‘Good girl,’ I said shakily and imagined her smiling, even though it was probably the last thought on her mind. Then I saw her shoulders rise and fall.

‘Steven!’ She gasped urgently again, sounding as if she was afraid someone would walk through the door and catch us.

I was staring at the sexiest sight I’d even seen in all of my life and times, mother or no mother, because she had to force her knees outward and then hold them there to hold the slacks in place at her knees. Her upper legs were now bent outward at a hell of a sexy angle. I was as hard as a fucking rock and it wasn’t the sight of my mother’s panty-clad butt that had done it. It was the fact that I could see it, and, whether she wanted me to or not. Her arms hang loose and limp by her sides. With my heart in my mouth, I knew exactly what words I would choose to say next, and, I said them.

‘Pull your panties down now, mum,’ I said, ‘all the way down to your knees.’

‘Oh!’ She gasped as her hands came up and settled on the waistband of her undies. ‘Steven! No! Please!’

But she slowly dragged them down without stopping, all the way to her knees. I nearly came when she bent forward slightly and that was from the first real sexual sight I’d had. I saw the dark bush of black pubic hair from behind between her legs when she’d bent forward slightly. Then she straightened up; still holding her knees pressed outward a little in order to hold her slacks in place.

‘Good girl!’ I said almost jubilantly.

‘Oh, Steven!’ She gasped urgently again, looking left and right as if to spot anyone who might be looking in one of the windows. ‘Please?’

Now, my mother’s backside was not all that bad to look at. She was a tall woman at five-foot ten inches, and, as I said, she wasn’t fat. She walked a mile a day for exercise. She was just big all over, sort of like an Amazon, I guess you could say. So, the two well muscled, but large size buttock cheeks and thighs I was now gazing at were definitely not all that unattractive to me as a male. In fact, if it wasn’t my mother’s ass I knew was gazing at, I could probably have gotten a lot more excited sexually than I was in just controlling her mind.

In fact, my dick was already as hard as it could get. That’s what I’d figured, at any rate. But when I heard my mother actually beg me, I believe without a doubt that my cock actually doubled in hardness. And then, for some reason unknown to me, mum suddenly then clenched those powerful cheeks together. They snapped shut like a vice. I was absolutely riveted by the muscle movement when she did that. Whatever the cause, it didn’t matter because I then proceeded to cum in my trousers while gritting my teeth and gazing at the sexy deep crack in my mother’s ass and holding my breath until it was all over, bar the shouting.

‘Good... girl,’ was what left my lips before I could stop them as I groaned deeply, and almost silently as I continued to gaze at those powerfully and strong-looking buttocks.

Then mum sighed. I heard her. Then I sighed deeply and relaxed back into the chair, feeling exhausted. I gazed quickly around the room and glanced at the windows myself, for some reason. Then I looked down at the coffee table in front of me for a few seconds and smiled, or, grinned, would be a better word.

‘Mum,’ I said quietly, after I’d gotten my breath back under control, ‘step back here toward me. I’ll tell you when to stop. You can let your slacks fall down to your ankles now.’

‘Oh!’ She gasped quietly again, but she stepped back carefully without delay until she was almost on top of me.

‘Stop,’ I said and she did.

‘Oh! Steven? Please? No!’ She uttered, begging low and urgently.

I could only begin to imagine what her distressed mind was racing flat out to tell her intelligent and probably highly vivid imagination I was going to do next. Mum’s firm white cheeks now stared back at me and positively trembled only inches away from my face as I sat on eye level with them. But, my cock had had it, over-stimulated, I guessed and simply not up top responding in any way.

I reached down at picked up the felt-tipped whiteboard marker that she used for leaving notes on the message whiteboard. I took the top off and leaned forward, then began to press its thick black inky tip into her skin.

‘OH!’ She gasped, and not quietly, either, but still just as urgently, yet she didn’t move a muscle. She just stood there bare-assed in front of her son while he wrote in big black letters on the big white background of her big bare ass, and, on the left cheek:

“YOUR SON, STEVEN, " then on the right cheek, ‘WAS HERE!”

Then I blew upon the black writing on the trembling white background several times.

‘Steven!’ Mum gasped each time I blew and each time I would say the same thing to her and watch her sigh as I smiled victoriously and listened to her gasp again when I blew. ‘Oh! ‘Steven!’

‘Good girl, Mum.’

I sighed and relaxed when I figured the writing was dry enough so as not to smudge when she pulled her clothes back on.

‘Get fully dressed again, Mum,’ I told her and she did, casually reaching down and again giving me a bird’s eye view of her mysterious black hairy bush as she first, pulled up her panties and the pulled up her slacks and fastened them again at the waist.

‘Sit down, mum,’ I said when she’d finished and she did, casually.

When her face turned around and her eyes grabbed mine they held the dire promise to me that she better not remember what I’d done, for if she did, my ass would be grass. I smiled, plenty confident, that when she saw what was written on her butt at shower time, she’d be more pleased than angry in the long run. Nevertheless, I didn’t plan to be in the house around that time.

I grinned at her and remembered the mess in my trousers. I was glad I had a few old pairs of jeans still in my old room at her house. She smiled back at me softly, or her lips did, anyway. I wasn’t exactly one hundred percent sure about the look in her eyes. I smiled at her, then grinned, and she smiled at me, and then grinned, still not sure about her eyes, though.

‘LG, Mum,’ I said, chuckling at the whole thing.

Mum just slowly shook her head from side to side.

‘Stevie,’ she said quietly, and that was all she said.

I grinned at her again, taking some cold comfort from that one-word statement. She was never really mad at me when she used the affectionate shortening of my first name, not really.

Yep, I kept grinning at her while everything began drying between my legs, L was definitely fucking G today, maybe not for me, but definitely for my “I-need-proof” mum.”

‘Good girl,’ I said finally and smiled warmly at her as she smiled back and sighed, then relaxed deeply into her chair. ‘Well, Mum,’ I said with another deep sigh, ‘welcome to your life and times.’

Mum blinked only once as I waited to find out whether my practice would end right there in the chair upon which I sat, simply for practicing on my mother when she asked me to. Then she blinked a second time as she held my gaze evenly with her own sparkling eyes.

‘Steven,’ she said in a strange soft voice.

But, in the way she said it. That was all she needed to say. I knew.