Aslan corners his mom in the laundry room...

Osiris Champion's Hypnosis – A Mother's Laundry Day Submission

The basement laundry room hummed with the rhythmic churn of the washing machine, its mechanical purr drowning out Reya's shaky breaths as the mature woman sorted through the week's soiled linens. Aslan's face kept appearing in front of her...

"W-What the hell has gotten into him?"

The air hung thick with the scent of lavender detergent and something muskier—the lingering traces of their interrupted shower encounter that still clung to her pale skin despite vigorous scrubbing.

"Is it my fault for... For leading him on? He is a young man, full of cum, I-I mean energy, full of energy! Shit... Can we even go back to before?"

She'd chosen this chore specifically to avoid him, to put physical distance between herself and the son who'd somehow become a sex demon, leaving the neglected milf no peace in her own home.

Click.

The sound of the basement door latch engaging sent ice water down her spine.

"Aslan?" Reya's voice came out higher than intended, her fingers tightening around a crumpled bedsheet. "I-I'm busy right now—"

"Just came to help, Mom." His voice oozed false innocence as he descended the creaking wooden steps, each footfall measured like a panther stalking prey. "Dad always says we should share household duties."

Reya's throat constricted as she caught sight of him—wearing only low-slung sweatpants that did nothing to hide the thick outline of his arousal. The dim basement lighting carved shadows across his sculpted torso, highlighting the faint glow of the incubus mark pulsing just above his hipbone.

That damned tattoo.

She'd noticed it last summer after his "camping trip"—a swirling, otherworldly sigil that seemed to move when she stared too long. Now it pulsed in time with her racing heartbeat, its hypnotic patterns pulling at her gaze like a riptide.

"Don't need help," Reya muttered, turning back to the washer with **** concentration. She bent at the waist to retrieve a stray sock, acutely aware of how her yoga pants stretched across her ass—

A warm hand settled on the small of her back.

"Careful, Mom," Aslan purred, his fingers dipping just beneath her waistband. "Wouldn't want you to... strain yourself."

Electricity shot up her spine at the contact. Reya jerked upright, nearly knocking over the detergent bottle. "Stop it!" she hissed, emerald eyes flashing with maternal authority undercut by the tremor in her voice. "Whatever... hypnosis nonsense you're doing—"

A sharp whistle cut through her words—two precise notes that vibrated in her sternum like a struck tuning fork.

Reya's knees buckled.

The laundry room blurred at the edges as the sound triggered something deep in her hindbrain, unlocking a flood of endorphins that turned her limbs to liquid heat. Her protest died on her lips as her son's power washed over her in waves, each pulse from his glowing mark pulling her deeper under.

No no no—

Her internal scream faded to static as Aslan guided her stumbling form toward the folding table. The cool laminate pressed against her back as he lifted her onto the surface with terrifying ease, her legs falling open of their own accord.

"See how much better it is when you obey?" Aslan murmured, calloused palms sliding up her bare thighs. The sweatpants she'd changed into after their shower were loose enough for his fingers to find the dampening crotch of her panties with ease. "Your body knows what it wants, Mom. Even if your mind keeps fighting."

Reya whimpered as his fingers brushed her clit through the soaked fabric, her hips jerking involuntarily. "W-We can't—your father's just upstairs—"

Another whistle—deeper, vibrating in the mature woman's womb this time.

Her back arched off the table as the sound triggered an immediate, violent orgasm. White-hot pleasure detonated along her nerves, her vision whiting out as her pussy clenched around nothing, soaking her panties entirely.

Aslan chuckled darkly, watching her twitch through the aftershocks. "That's your punishment for running away earlier," he growled, yanking her sweatpants down to her knees with one sharp motion. "And this—" His fingers hooked into her lace panties, tearing them aside to expose her glistening folds. "—is your apology."

Reya barely had time to process the words before his mouth was on her, his tongue laving broad stripes through her dripping slit. The shock of sensation ripped a scream from her throat—quickly muffled by his palm as he ate her out with single-minded intensity.

Schlick. Schlick. Schlurp.

The obscene wet sounds filled the laundry room, mingling with the washer's spin cycle as Aslan devoured her like a man starved. His nose pressed against her clit with each upward stroke, his free hand pinning her hips to the table as she thrashed beneath him.

"T-Tastes like shame," he growled between laps, his golden eyes glowing unnaturally in the basement gloom. "Like guilt. But your cunt keeps getting wetter anyway, doesn't it?"

Reya sobbed around his fingers, her body betraying her with every squirm of pleasure. She could feel another orgasm building already—her son's cursed tongue working her over with supernatural precision. The incubus mark on his hip pulsed brighter with each lick, its hypnotic patterns reflected in the glass of the washing machine door.

Round and round and round—

Her thoughts spun with the laundry as Aslan added two fingers, curling them inside her with devastating accuracy. The stretch burned deliciously, her inner walls fluttering around his digits as he scissored them open.

"Gonna make you remember this time," he promised darkly, his voice layered with compulsion. "Gonna make sure every time you do laundry, you feel my fingers inside you. Every time you smell lavender, you'll taste me on your tongue."

Reya's eyes rolled back as he sucked her clit into his mouth, his fingers pumping relentlessly. The orgasm hit like a freight train—her body seizing up as pleasure detonated through every nerve ending. Her thighs clamped around Aslan's head as she came with a silent scream, her juices gushing over his chin.

Before she could recover, strong hands flipped her onto her stomach. The cold laminate stung her flushed cheeks as Aslan yanked her hips back, his thick cockhead nudging against her soaked entrance.

"This is your real punishment, Mom," he growled, sinking into her with one brutal thrust.

Reya's scream echoed off the concrete walls as he bottomed out, her nails scrabbling against the folding table. The stretch burned—he was so much bigger than his father—but her traitorous body welcomed the invasion, her inner walls fluttering around his girth.

Aslan set a punishing pace from the start, his hips slamming against her ass with each thrust. The washer's vibrations rattled through the floor beneath them, the spin cycle's rhythm matching his brutal strokes.

"F-Forgive me yet?" he taunted between grunts, one hand fisting in her auburn hair to yank her head back.

Reya could only moan, her mind blank except for the overwhelming sensation of being filled. The angle had his cock grinding against her g-spot with every inward stroke, building pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

Then—

His free hand pressed between her shoulder blades, the glowing incubus mark making direct contact with her skin.

White noise.

Reya's consciousness fragmented as the mark's power surged through her nervous system, rewriting resistance into compliance. Her back arched obscenely as the pleasure tripled—no, quadrupled—her son's thrusts now hitting so deep she could feel him in her throat.

"Mine," Aslan snarled, his hips stuttering as his release approached. "Say it, Mom. Say you're mine."

The words spilled from Reya's lips without conscious thought: "Y-Yours! God, yours—"

Aslan roared as he came, his cock pulsing inside her as he painted her walls with thick spurts of cum. The **** of his orgasm triggered her own—her pussy milking him through wave after wave of mind-melting pleasure.

When he finally pulled out, Reya collapsed onto the folding table, her limbs boneless. Hot cum trickled down her inner thighs as she panted, her mind struggling to process what just happened.

Aslan tucked himself back into his sweats with a satisfied smirk, his glowing mark fading to dormancy. "Good girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her trembling shoulder. "Now finish the laundry like nothing happened."

He ascended the steps without another word, leaving Reya alone with the spinning washer and the cooling evidence of her corruption.

Her fingers shook as she reached between her legs, collecting a bead of mingled fluids on her fingertips. Against her better judgment, she brought them to her lips—

Lavender and salt and something darker.

The basement door clicked shut upstairs as the washing machine entered its final spin cycle.

Round and round and round.