Hypnotic Adventures at the Mall [Pt. I]

You walk into the mall feeling like a king. With your mother on your left and your older sister on the right, you feel like you can accomplish anything. They may not be your women yet, but with the daily hypnosis sessions it’s only a matter of time.

The two busty MILFs find every opportunity they can to stay close to you and brush up against you. Your sister in particularly seems to derive a sense of pleasure from the act, especially when you initiate the contact.

While you’re sure your father, your mother, and Rick aren’t looking, you reach a hand downward and squeeze Tiffany’s big round ass through her jeans. She gasps and looks up at you. When she realizes that no one saw you grope her rear, she smiles at you, mouthing a quick “thanks” before moving off with her husband who’s currently pushing little Ronnie in a stroller.

You suppress a flare of jealousy as Tiffany’s husband shares a smile with her.

“We’re going to go look for baby stuff for Ronnie,” Rick says.

Your mother smiles at them. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Tiffany smiles. “No, it’s alright Mom. Besides, we’re getting something for you and Dad, too. You guys have helped us so much over the past year.”

“Hm, that sounds nice,” your father voices his approval.

“Hm. Alright. Let me know when you get hungry and we’ll meet for lunch,” your mother tells them. She seems **** to let them go, but does so.

“Okay, sounds good!” Tiffany gives you one last parting glance. Her lips curve upwards. Then she turns away, walking away with her husband to a clothes store on the other side of the indoor mall.

You take a moment to look around, taking in the sight of so many people milling about during the holiday season. People of all walks of life that you’d never have met normally since you spend so much time in your room. Quite a few of the people walking around you catch your eye.

A curvy black woman who seems to be in her late thirties is flanked by two dark-skinned teenage boys carrying shopping bags from a number of stores. A mother, perhaps? The woman is wearing a tight green sweater similar to your mother’s that struggle to contain her positively massive breasts that quake and jiggle as she walks. Your eyes fall to her hips. They’re round and well-proportioned and you can only imagine the fullness of her round ass. Sadly, she isn’t hypnotized, so you decide to look elsewhere.

“Is everything alright, honey?” your mother asks. Barely-concealed concern glimmers in her azure eyes.

“Hm?” you mumble. “Ah, nothing’s wrong. Hey, where’s Dad?”

“Oh, he went off to buy me something special,” she said dismissively. “Honestly, we’ve been married for over twenty years. Your father should know by now that I don’t really value such things.”

“No?” you ask. “What do you value most, Mom?”

She smiles at you warmly and steps closer to you. Her large clothed breasts are almost touching your chest. You imagine to others you might look like a couple. You can't help but grin.

“That should be obvious, shouldn’t it?” she grabs you by the hand. “Come on, I know a place we can get shopping done and spend more time together.”

She drags you to an outlet that surprises you.

“A furniture store? You want to get someone like a table for Christmas?” you ask her. You have to admit, that’s the first time you’ve heard of someone gifting someone furniture. A picture pops into your head of an entire dining table just sitting alongside the tree wrapped tightly in gift wrap.

She gives you a playful shove and grins at you.

“No, silly. I want to get you a new bed,” she says. She crosses her arms under her breasts, causing them to strain the material of her sweater. Your cock bobs in your pants when you remember that your mother’s breasts are still coated with your thick jizz.

“A… a bed? But my bed’s just fine,” you say.

She gives you a pitying look. “You’ve had that mattress for over ten years, John. It’s so small and uncomfortable. If I’m going to be sleeping with you again, we’ll need to give your room a makeover, starting with your bed. I’m thinking something queen-sized and relatively soft.”

“You want to sleep with me again?” you ask her, nearly dumbfounded by her rather frank admission. Is this going to become a regular thing between the two of you? You have to admit the thought of it excites you. And what did she mean about giving your entire room a makeover? Does she want to start moving some of her own clothes into your room? You smile as you imagine waking up to your mother changing into her clothes for the day, uncaring as you watch her cover up her voluptuous nude form, but then disrobing again because you wanted to cum on her tits and have her go that way to work.

“Of course, honey,” she coos and grasps your cheek affectionately with her smooth hand. “Last night was the best sleep I’ve gotten in a long time. And you were so cute when you fell asleep between your mommy’s breasts. Maybe tonight I can keep you comfortable like that again.”

Holy shit.

“Anyway, the clock is ticking. Let’s go find something, John!” she turns and walks into the store, her wide hips swaying as she does so. You stare at the way the thin material of her pants digs into her buttcrack, accentuating the fullness of her big round ass.

The two of you spend about half an hour in the store before you find a mattress that the both of you like. Well, you like most of them, but your mother is rather picky and won't settle for anything less than the best, in her words.

She lies down next to you on a queen-sized mattress that was left out for customers to try and get a feel for.

“Hm, this is pretty comfy,” you say. “What do you think, Mom?”

Silence.

You turn toward her and give her a nudge.

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey?” she says in a far-off voice as she turns to face you. Her blue eyes are delightfully blank. “Hm, I’m hypnotized right now. I’m supposed to let you know.”

You frantically glance around yourself and find you and your mother are among only a few people in the store. If you keep your voice low, you’re certain that you won’t be within earshot of any of them.

Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you get to implanting suggestions into your mother’s **** mind.

“Are you comfortable around me, Mom?” you ask her softly.

“Mhm,” she replies, a soft smile on her face even through the trance.

“How comfortable are you around me?”

“Very comfortable,” she says.

“Do you know why you’re comfortable around me?”

She doesn’t answer.

“You’re comfortable around me because you secretly find me attractive.”

“No… no,” she mumbles.

“Why don’t you find me attractive, Mom?”

She bites her lip.

“You’re my son. It’s ****…”

“But I came on your breasts. Wasn’t that ****?”

She furrows her brows, but says nothing.

“You enjoyed it when I came on your tits, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Mommy's tits exist to serve you..." she replies and reaches her hands to her chest to mash her breasts together.

You smile at her.

“Since you liked it when I came on your breasts, that must mean that you find **** with me enjoyable,” you say.

“No…” she whispers, but it’s weaker than her last refusal.

“You find the idea of **** with me enjoyable. You find me attractive,” you say.

“I… I find you attractive,” she says.

“You feel comfortable around me when I’m naked,” you tell her.

“I… I…”

“Seeing me naked makes you comfortable.”

“Seeing you naked makes me comfortable.”

“Being naked around me makes you comfortable,” you say.

“Being naked around you makes me comfortable,” she replies readily.

Your cock twitches.

“You’ll get naked whenever I tell you to.”

“I’ll… get naked…”

“You’re comfortable when you do what I say,” you suggest.

“Comfortable…”

“You find me more attractive when I tell you what to do.”

“Tell me what to do…” she moans.

“Your son knows what’s best for you, Mom.”

“My son knows what’s best for me,” she says softly, licking her plush lips after she does so.

“Since I know what’s best for you, you need to start letting me make decisions for you. Right, Mom?”

“Mhm,” she nods her head.

“Other people might not be so understanding about you being attracted your own son. Right, Mom?” you say.

She nods her head.

“So you should do whatever you can to keep your attraction to me a secret from anyone but me,” you say.

“A secret,” she smiles at you.

You pause and glance around the two of you again. Still rather secluded in your area of the mattress store, you wonder how much time you have left with your mother in her hypnotized state. It can’t be much longer, so you have to make the time count.

“You want to be more obedient to me.”

“More… obedient?” she asks. She starts to massage her huge breasts. You wonder if beneath all the stern authority she’s ruled her household with that she might be a closet submissive. You bite your lower lip.

“Yes, you want to be more obedient to me, Mom. Whenever I and only I say the words, ‘Please, Mommy,” and then ask you to do something, you’ll do it no matter what it is I’ve asked you because you love your son so much,” you say.

“I love my son so much,” her breath hitches. For a moment you feel a tinge of regret at how you’re perverting your own mother’s personality. Then you remember the years of neglect and scorn that the woman had given and you and press on.

“What will you do when I and only I say the words ‘Please, Mommy’?” you ask.

She licks her lips again. “I’ll do whatever you say after those words.”

Holy shit.

Your timing must be impeccable, because your mother’s eyes blink a few times and her bright blue eyes regain their usual liveliness.

“Hm... wow, this bed is so comfortable I must have dozed off for a bit. I think we may have a winner,” she says, smiling at you.

“Y-yeah, totally. Say, Mom. Can you give me a quick kiss on the lips?”

Your mother blinks at you and bites her lip. She leans towards you somewhat and puckers her plush blowjob lips, before shaking her head and backing off. Her cheeks are flaring bright red, however.

“T-that’s not appropriate, John. Why would you ask your mother to do something like that?”

You quirk an eyebrow and say, “Sorry. Mommy, please would you give me a kiss on the lips?”

Her flustered look disappears in a heartbeat and she smiles at you.

“Of course, honey. Mommy loves you so much!” she says. She leans towards you and presses her lips against yours.

They’re so soft. Warm. You relish in the feel of your mother’s lips as the two of you make out in the mattress store. You poke your tongue against her lips and they open readily, allowing you entry into your mother’s mouth. The incestuous kiss deepens and the woman who gave birth to you lets out a pleased moan when you reach a hand up to knead her big breast.

“A-ahem!” a voice startles the two of you from your kiss.

A woman with light chestnut hair and dark brown eyes glares at the two of you from above the mattress. She appears to be in her mid to late thirties and is wearing a woman’s two-piece suit. Was she the manager of the place?

“I know it’s tempting for couples like yourself to try out a mattress before buying it, but I’m afraid I’ll have to insist that you stop,” she tells you in a no-nonsense voice.

Your mother blushes at the insinuation that the two of you are a couple, but doesn’t deny it, to your amusement. You suppose in her mind that's better than the woman knowing you're her son.

“Uh… we’re so sorry about this. We’d already decided that we were going to buy this mattress and we got... carried away,” your mother looks away from you.

The woman’s features relax somewhat with the promise of a purchase.

“I’m glad to hear that. Do you want to come up to the desk so we can get the paperwork squared away?”

Your mother nods, her wavy auburn hair glimmering beautifully.

“Yes, I think that’d be best. We’re not ready to pick it up today, after all. That’ll have to happen sometime this week,” she says.

The woman nods as if expecting her answer.

“That makes sense. You’d be surprised how many people come here on a whim and aren’t actually prepared to transport an entire mattress home. Will your husband be joining us?” she says.

Your mother glances over at you, her cheeks brightening once more.

“Honey, why don’t you go find everyone else and have them meet me here. It’s getting to be about lunch time,” she says.

Hm. It seems that she’s rather uncomfortable with the woman insinuating that you and your mother are actually husband and wife, even if it excites her on some level. You take the dismissal for what it is and smile at her. There will be plenty of opportunities to use all of those delightful suggestions you implanted in her mind once the two of you are home.

“Alright, I’ll see you in a few minutes, Linda,” her eyes widen somewhat at the casual use of her first name, but she looks almost shocked when you give her a quick peck on the lips. You smile at her and quickly walk away, feeling her eyes on you as you leave the store.

The echoing voices and walking pedestrians of the mall greet you like an old friend. You stare at the women, searching for any who looks like she might be a mother. A few of them catch your eye. A short curvy brunette with a wedding band browsing one of the kiosks near the middle of the space between stores. An olive-skinned Asian woman with perky breasts and a nice bubble butt doodling on her phone as she enters a shoe store. And… a woman you recognize.

She’s dark-haired and blue-eyed and just as beautiful as you remember. Large, fantastic breasts that had been the focus of many a jerkoff session stretch the material of her tight white blouse. Her black yoga pants hug her wide hips and thick thighs like a second skin. A pair of black-framed glasses sit in front of her blue eyes, giving her a sharp, intelligent look. She's a psychiatrist, if you remember correctly, and always seemed like she was rather intelligent and skilled at what she did. You find that you like that part of her.

“Mrs. Thompson,” you breathe. The mother of Jared Thompson, your high school bully. Well, your most prolific high school bully. You’d started out as friends, but gradually he’d displayed an interest in sports and you hadn’t and things spiraled from there. He’d go out of his way to humiliate you to convince his friends that you’d never hung out together. The betrayal stung, even to this day.

You never forgot about his mother, though. How her big round ass looked when she bent over in those tight pants of hers. How her huge breasts would mash together in front of you when she knelt down to ruffle your hair.

She’s sitting on a bench, unmoving. Her eyes blink every now and then, but her face is slack and lifeless. People glance over at her and seem to recognize something about her and leave her alone.

You swallow nervously. Could your high school bully’s mother be hypnotized? If she is, what will you do with her?