French toast and hypnosis

The three of you eat in silence at first, and for a time only the sound of rain tapping against the kitchen windows fills the room. The sky beyond the windows is a gloomy black-gray shroud. Yet you feel warm, having dried off in your mother’s SUV on the ride home.

Mom and Tiffany take turns eyeballing you before glaring at each other, a competitive glint in both of their eyes. Mom had been the first to do it and Tiffany quickly catches on, narrowing her eyes slightly as she skewers a piece of French toast with her fork before popping it in her mouth.

You alternate glancing between them, frowning. They can’t possibly be jealous of each other, can they? No, you’re probably imagining things. They have no reason to suspect you’ve actually done anything sexual with the other. If they did, you’re pretty sure they’d be doing a lot more than glaring at each other.

What you aren’t imagining is Tiffany’s hand brushing against your leg while Mom’s foot nudges against yours. When you look at either woman, they brighten visibly and invariably lean forward slightly, drawing your eyes to their expansive cleavage. God, you can’t wait until you’re at the point where you can get a double boobjob from your mom and sister, but being the focus of attention between the two of them is pretty amazing too after so many years of being ignored or derided by both of them.

“Mm. This is delicious,” you say between mouthfuls, savoring the tasty French toast. You swallow loudly, something that would normally get you an admonishment from Mom and/or a snicker from Tiffany.

Instead, your mother beams at you, showing perfectly white teeth. Her azure eyes glow fondly.

“It is, isn’t it? I did a pretty good job, all things considered,” your mother says, pride coloring her tone. She skewers another piece with her fork and takes a bite. “Mmmm.”

You and Tiffany share a wry grin, but say nothing. Mom’s always been one to toot her own horn and you both have learned to accept it by now.

“So, what did you and Jared get up to yesterday? And how’s Mrs. Thompson?” Mom asks after swallowing.

You hold up a hand as you swallow a mouthful of your breakfast.

“She’s good,” you say. “Work has been pretty hectic for her lately so she wasn’t able to make me breakfast this morning or drive me back here, but she told me to say hi. As for what me and Jared did, well, he showed me his new car and then we went and picked up some fried chicken and watched dumb action movies for the rest of the night.”

“Must be nice to be able to get out the house,” Tiffany murmurs under her breath, and you nearly roll your eyes. If she just chills out for a little while, long enough she’ll have all the free time she wants.

“What was that?” your mother asks.

“Oh? Nothing.” Tiffany shoves a rather large, syrup-covered piece of French toast in her mouth. Her cheeks expand slightly as she chews the large mouthful. After a few moments she swallows audibly, and you follow the bulge in her throat.

Your mother returns her attention to you.

“I’m glad to hear you had a good time, though you shouldn’t expect the Thompsons to make all your meals for you when you’re at her house.” She gives you a pointed look. “Did you end up spending any money last night?”

You’re happy she doesn’t mention giving you cash. Tiffany might raise a fuss. For a moment you imagine the looks on their faces if you told them about giving Dayna the hundred because you thought she was hot.

A smile tugs at your lips. How is Dayna right now? You wonder. Is she even awake? You imagine someone who works the late shift at a restaurant must like to sleep in. Then again, she does have kids to raise while also going to law school.

“Who do you think paid for the chicken?” you say. You sit back in your seat, basking in the feeling of being full, but it’s not only that. You’re not even sure how to describe it, this feeling. Is it confidence? Earlier, you’d been afraid Kira was going to call the cops on you, but then she’d fallen into a trance and you’d gotten your hooks into yet another MILF. Angela’s pretty much eating out of your palm in exchange for you being her outlet for her exhibitionist urges. Sharon’s your girlfriend and you think she actually loves you. Her cleaning lady Veronica has the hots for you. And then there’s Marissa. Lovely, curvy Marissa who took your virginity, gave you damning **** material on her that could destroy her life, and you’re going to have dinner with tonight.

Suddenly, your mother’s eyes glaze over. Her face grows blank, like all emotion and awareness have left her body. Slowly, her lips droop open as she stares past you thoughtlessly.

You wait for Tiffany to comment, yet she’s silent as well. You look over at your redheaded sister and find her eyes just as lifeless as your mother’s. A dollop of saliva accumulates at the edge of her plush lips before dripping downward between the valley of her breasts.

To make sure they’re hypnotized, you snap your fingers in front of their faces. Neither of them blink or react in any way. Huh. You’ve never seen two women hypnotized at the same time, but it might just be one of the hottest things you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Instantly erect, you grin devilishly at your mother and sister. Hypnotized. Open to your every whim. You glance at the old analog clock hanging on the wall above the sink. 9:57.

You return your gaze to the women.

There are so many things you want to say, but before you can do anything, there’s one thing you need to get out of the way. You want to implant an obedience trigger in Tiffany’s mind, and you’d rather Mom not have the exact same trigger in case you only want to command one of them while the other is present.

“Tiffany, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” she replies softly, without a hint of her usual fire.

You glance over at your mother. Her beautiful face is still expressionless and blank. Serene in a way you’ve never seen her while awake, except perhaps the time when you were peacefully in bed together after you’d had sex. You haven’t addressed her, but how can you know she won’t internalize what you say to Tiffany?

“Mom, I need to talk to Tiffany privately for a minute. You’re not going to hear or remember anything I say until I clap my hands. Do you understand?” you say.

A slight nod. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good.”

You let out a slight sigh and turn to face Tiffany again.

“You like it when I pay attention to you, don’t you, Tiffany?”

Your older sister swallows. “I do.”

You get up from your seat and slowly walk behind Tiffany. You rest your hands on her shoulders and begin massaging her. Her body rocks in tune with your movements, her conscious mind not awake to compensate. Your hands creep lower, and while looking straight at your mother’s blank face, you cup two handfuls of your sister’s big, soft breasts.

As you squeeze her boobs, you keep talking.

“You like being around me. You feel comfortable when you’re near me and when I touch you.”

“I feel comfortable when you touch me…” Tiffany whispers, utterly oblivious as you play with her tits.

“From now on, whenever I and only I say the words ‘Come on, sis,’ you’ll find yourself doing whatever it is I say afterward and thinking nothing of it. Do you understand?”

“Hm,” she nods.

“When I say the words ‘Come on, sis,” what are you going to do, Tiffany?”

You keep squeezing her breasts as she answers, “I’ll do whatever you say next and I won’t even think about it.”

By now, your cock is forming a veritable tentpole in your pants. You feel like either Mom or Tiffany would willingly fuck you right now if you could get them alone, but why should someone with your abilities have to retreat someplace private in your own home when you can just cut the problem off at its source.

Reluctantly, you take your hands off your sister’s breasts and clap your hands.

Your mother blinks, but continues staring ahead blankly. Her ample boobs rise and fall with her slow breaths.

“Can you hear me, Mom?”

She nods. “I hear you.”

“Can you tell me what I said to Tiffany just now?”

She frowns minutely and shakes her head. “I can’t.”

You grin. Good.

“Mom. Tiffany. Can you hear me?”

“Yes.” Comes your mother’s voice.

“Mhm,” murmurs Tiffany.

“You’ve both been talking a bit over the past minute or so. Can either of you hear each other?” you ask, curious.

Both women shake their heads.

“No,” they answer in unison.

Interesting. So even when two hypnotized mothers talk, they still can’t hear each other. They can only hear your voice. You guess it’s one less thing you have to tell a woman to ignore if she happens to be hypnotized at the same time as someone else in the same room, as unlikely as that is.

Curiosity sated, you decide it’s time you truly began your work.

“Both of you love me, don’t you?”

Your heart skips a beat when your mother and Tiffany say, “Yes.”

You guess, on some level, you knew they loved you, but they had almost never said it. Perhaps it’s time you rectified that.

“It feels good to tell me you love me. You want to tell me at least once a day, don’t you?”

“I do.” “I want to tell you I love you at least once a day.”

You move around the table, towards your mother. You don’t bother massaging her shoulders and decide to reach straight for her breasts, sliding your hands beneath her soft sweater to cup handfuls of her massive mammaries.

“The more you tell me you love me, the better it feels, the greater and more intense your love for me will become.”

Your mother lets out a moan. Your sister’s tongue touches her lower lip.

“You like being around me. You feel comfortable around me. The more time you spend around me, the better you feel.”

“I like being around you…” your mother starts, and your sister does immediately after, drowning out the rest of her words, some of them mingling together eerily. “I like being near you. I feel comfortable around you.”

“You’re so comfortable around me that you feel like it must be natural for women to feel that way about me. Isn’t that right?”

They nod after a few moments. God, it’s so utterly surreal to be able to play with your mother’s amazing tits while Tiffany’s in the same room.

“There’s nothing strange about a woman wanting to spend time with me, is there?”

“No.” “Not at all.”

You smile and keep groping your mother’s breasts, enjoying their softness and warmth. One of these days, you have to get her to let you use them as a pillow again.

Feeling the time pass, you look up at the clock again.

10:00, but the minute hand has almost reached 10:01.

You doubt you’ll be able to make them accept your right to use the other sexually before their trances are over, but at least you’ve made some progress on that front by minimizing any suspicions they might have about you spending time with other women. You think neither of them will believe you’ve actually been with other women sexually unless they either witness it themselves or are shown irrefutable proof of it. And the best part of your power is that you’ll have the opportunity to reinforce those changes tomorrow and the next day and the day after that until your mother and sister are exactly the way you want them to be.

Last night when you were in bed with Sharon and you hadn’t been asleep from sheer exhaustion, you’d given a lot of thought to what changes you wanted to make to your women’s minds, not just the long-term alterations. Little things, like triggers that instead of making them obey you, caused them to perform other actions that pleased you without them even really being aware of it. After all, what was the point of being able to influence mothers every day if you didn’t take advantage of it to have fun and satisfy your own little kinks?

You take your hands out of your mother’s sweater and return to your seat. You doubt either of them would question you moving around while they were hypnotized, but you’d rather they think you kept eating just the same.

“You both love me very much. You’re comfortable around me and you like being around me, but you can’t always be around me, can you?”

“Hm?” Mom’s face scrunched up in discomfort. Tiffany blinked.

“Part of loving someone is acknowledging that they deserve their own privacy. Their personal space. It’s a sign of love and respect to allow someone their own privacy, isn’t it?” you say.

After a bit of hesitation, your mother and sister nod.

“Whenever I and only I say the words ‘I need my personal space,’ you’ll both forget that I’m in the room with you and completely ignore me and anything I do. You’ll want to ignore me because you respect me and you want me to be able to enjoy my privacy without being disturbed. You’ll continue doing whatever you were doing before I said the words, ‘I need my personal space,’ and you’ll never acknowledge or react to anything I say or do no matter what it is, except when I say the words ‘Okay, I’m back now.’ When I say ‘Okay, I’m back now,’ you’ll suddenly remember that I was in the room with you and stop ignoring me, and it’ll be as if I never left, and you won’t remember anything I did while you were ignoring me. Nothing about any of this will seem strange to you. Do you understand?”

Your mother and sister nod.

“I understand.” “Yes.”

And like a spell has been lifted, both women blink rapidly for a few seconds, life suddenly flaring back into their eyes with full ****.

“Hm. That’s good. I’m glad you offered to pay for dinner instead of letting Jared and his mother take care of everything,” your mother says. She reaches towards you to grasp your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, a proud smile twisting at her lips. “It shows a level of class sadly lacking in a lot of young people nowadays.”

Tiffany rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. Like things were any better when you were younger.”

Your mother glares at her, but doesn’t take her hand off yours.

“Thank you for proving my point.”

“H-hey!” Tiffany’s emerald eyes flare angrily.

“Uh, guys?” you say. It’s testament to how much influence you wield over them that they stop mid-argument and look at you. “I need my personal space.”

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