Chapter 1

“Mom, can you come here for a minute?” I called out, trying to keep my tone casual. I had no reason to be careful. Only my mother Fiona and my best friend David were at the house.

She entered the room, looking a bit wary. “What is it, Jeff?”

I gestured for her to stand in front of me. “I just need to make sure everything’s set for tonight. Remember the hypnosis? I need to reapply it.”

Her eyes widened with a mix of fear and resignation. “Jeff, please, not again. This has gone far enough.”

I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm and assertive. “Mom, focus on my voice. You’re getting sleepy again.”

My mother futilely shook her head, but I could see the trance taking hold. “Jeff, please, I’m begging you. Don’t do this. It’s not right.”

She knew there was no avoiding the compulsion to obey me. I applied reinforcement sessions every day to bind my mother’s will to me, and she always reacted the same way. She’d plead until I placed her fully in the trance.

“Mom, look into my eyes. You are feeling very sleepy. My voice is the only thing you hear. You must listen and obey,” I continued, my voice steady and firm. I was used to my mother’s pleading. If I stopped to argue with her, the impact of the ritual would be diminished, and I’d have to start over.

Her resistance was fading, her eyelids drooping. “No, Jeff...”

“Fiona Erdman, It’s the fourth of July today! It’s your favorite day in the entire world. You are the most patriotic and obedient mother of all time. There is no one more red-blooded, true-blue, and American than you in the entire world, is there?”

“No, Jeff...” She could barely stand; her body was limp.

“Your answers to me will always be totally sincere and will provide fully honest context and details, won’t they?”

“Yes, Jeff.”

“You won’t ever exclude some information or try to manipulate or trick me, will you?”

“No, Jeff.”

“That would be bad if you did that. wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, Jeff.”

“You are incapable of lying to me, aren’t you?” I said. I’ve found repeating the same instructions in a different way helps reinforce the trance state programming.

“Yes, Jeff.”

“You are so proud of your country that you can never be humiliated for loving it. You’ll go to any lengths to celebrate our nation’s rich traditions and heritage. The more embarrassed you are, the more patriotic you feel,” I reinforced, watching as the words took root in my mother’s malleable mind.

It had taken months of practice and training for me to be able to hone my technique and adjust her brain to accept suggestions from me with minimal resistance from her conscious mind.

I also make my mother sleep with headphones and a blindfold and play suggestive instructions through subliminal messages embedded in new-age music.

She was fully under now, her body relaxed, and her eyes closed. “You love to have fun by doing whatever I say. It’s all in good fun, and you enjoy it. Who am I, Mother?”

“You are my son,” she answered.

“What am I?”

“A good boy who can do no wrong.”

That’s what I had programmed her to say. She was doing really well. I encouraged her with light praise before continuing.

“Can you ever disagree with me?”

“No.”

“You aren’t mad that you were hypnotized. It was all in good fun. You won’t tell anyone you were hypnotized unless I tell you that it’s okay, right?”

“Right.”

“You will do whatever I tell you, when I tell you, how I tell you, no matter what, because you trust and obey me. I know what is best. Don’t I?”

“Yes, Jeff, you know bessss...”

“Are you aware you are hypnotized and under my control?”

“Yes, I am...”

“You are falling into a deeper state of suggestion, one where the things I tell you are all that you believe. You believe you can only tell me that you are hypnotized and no one else, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Today, you can tell David when you see him. You can’t tell anyone else, though. It’s a deep, dark secret that no one else can know.”

“Yes, Jeff.”

“No one else must ever know you are hypnotized,” I repeated a few times until my mother’s voice started to trail off while she agreed.

Fiona was completely entranced. I knew I had to make sure she wouldn’t break free. “When you wake up, you will remember that you love being a Yankee Doodle Dummy. You will follow all of my commands and feel happy and proud while doing so. Your heart swells with pride as we celebrate the enduring spirit of America, and you become a good mommy who does what she is told by her son. Don’t you?”

“Yesss...”

“Whenever I remind you of the bravery and vision of our founding fathers, who forged a path to freedom and democracy, you will feel a sense of sexual desire and mounting frustration today unless I tell you what to do next. You will follow me until I give you an instruction and obey it without hesitation.”

“Yessss, I will.”

“You asked me to hypnotize you to prevent you from smoking, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“You don’t want to smoke, do you?”

“No, Jeff.”

“You will never smoke, and if you disobey me, it means you’ll start up that nasty habit again, and you don’t want that, do you?”

“Ptaw,” my mother spat out a foul taste in her mouth and shook her head no.

Finally, I snapped my fingers, bringing her out of the trance. She blinked a few times, looking around with a sudden realization of her state. Panic flashed in her eyes as she realized that I had tranced her again. I re-apply the hypnosis every day to ensure that she can’t break free from my suggestions.

I’ve somehow connected the very real fear of smoking again to a fear of disobeying me. I am not entirely certain how I was able to manage it but at the root of all of my mother’s compulsion to obey, is her compulsion never to smoke again. I use association of the behaviors I want in her with the concept of never smoking again.

My mother will soon piece together what is happening to her. She comes to this realization every afternoon.

“Jeff, what did you do to me? Why do I feel so ... weird?” she asked, her voice trembling as she looked around the room in a confused state.

“Relax, Mom. You asked me to hypnotize you so that you would never crave a cigarette again. Do you remember?”

“On. Yes, I need to quit...” she said. She always says that. She hasn’t smoked in over 18 months, thanks to me. “It might be all in my head, but I really don’t want a cigarette. Thank you, Jeff. You are the best son ever!”

My mother’s expression of gratitude changes after she is done with her hypnosis from day to day. She’ll figure out shortly that that wasn’t the only suggestion that I implanted in her head.

I call this phase the “Waking from a Dream” phase because my mother’s disorientation will only last a few minutes, as if she had just awoken from a deep slumber. It will take her a few minutes to process the instructions I gave her. Today, I introduced one new rule into her psyche about my best friend knowing her dirty secret, and I wasn’t sure how that would work. I rarely deviated from my hypnotic script now that I had perfected it.

“What day is it today?” I asked.

“Why, it’s the Fourth of July! It’s my favorite day ever! Don’t you know that silly?”

“Yes, I do! Come on, let’s go show David how obedient you are.”

“Obedient?” my mother asked dumbfounded. She was compelled to follow me into the living room. It’s at this point that she starts to make a connection with what’s going on.

“You know David. He’s my best friend. He knows your secrets. Take his shoes off and kiss his feet, Mom.”

“What? why?” My Mom went to her knees at David’s feet, removed his shoes with a startled look on her face, and began to kiss his feet lovingly. “David, I am sorry about this,” she apologized.

“Don’t be sorry, Mom. He knows you are hypnotized. David and I are the only ones who know you are hypnotized. You can’t tell anyone else, and you like being told what to do, don’t you?”

“I do,” Fiona was still kissing his feet. David was lucky. I hadn’t told anyone else I hypnotized my mother. Today, I finally told David, and he didn’t believe my story. It was fairly incredible. I barely believed it myself.

“Seeing is believing, isn’t it, Buddy?”

“Jeff, why am I doing this?” Fiona couldn’t believe her actions.

“She’s most resistant right after the suggestions have been placed. It wears off after I start giving her commands,” I explained to David. I patted her on her beautiful red hair and reminded her, “You asked me to hypnotize you, and you aren’t mad about it. It’s all in good fun, right?” I asked.

“Yes, Jeff,” My mother was licking his toes and kissing my friend’s feet. She’d keep doing it until she passed out if I didn’t stop her. I’ve tested it before.

“How do you know she is really hypnotized and not just acting?” David asked.

“I’ve had her hypnotized for 18 months, David. Do you really think my Mom is playing the long con so she can surprise me and say that she was faking it?” I asked him rhetorically.

“I never noticed your mom was hypnotized, and I’ve been over here many times!”

“My Mom had a reputation for rambunctious and often outspoken behavior before this began. It was fairly simple to maintain that behavior around people. You are the only one I trusted to share this with. Do you need more proof? Fine, Mom, Stand up, please.”

“I’ve been doing what you tell me for 18 months, Jeff?” my mother asked with her eyes wide in surprise.

“You always do what I tell you, Fiona. Take your clothes completely off, fold them neatly, and sit on David’s lap. He’s a guest in the house, and you like to obey me, don’t you?”

“I do like to obey you, so you don’t have to hypnotize me, Jeff,” My mother was stripping out of her clothes quickly. She had perfect strawberry-colored nipples. I loved David’s face when she unsnapped her bra and popped out those puppies for him. She took her jeans down and rolled her panties down without hesitation as she stepped out of them.

“Are you embarrassed, Mom?”

“Yes, very.”

“Does it turn you on to be humiliated?”

“Yes, it does, Jeff,” My Mom covered her mouth and whispered, “Oh God!”

She says that every time I ask her, and she realizes her pussy is doing overtime juicing up, and her nipples are stiffening. I’ve instilled a deep desire to be humiliated in her that has somehow become psychosomatic. She can’t have an orgasm unless she is mortified.

“Mom, stand in the middle of the room,” I commanded. Fiona moved to the center of the living room, her naked body rigid but compliant.

“Now, sing ‘Yankee Doodle’ while hopping on one foot,” I said, testing the depth of the trance.

Fiona’s face flushed with embarrassment, but she started singing and hopping, her voice wavering but obedient. “Yankee Doodle went to town, riding on a pony...”

David’s jaw dropped. “No way, dude. She’s really doing it.”

“See? She’s my Yankee Doodle Dummy,” I said proudly. “And she loves every humiliating moment of it, don’t you, Mom?”

Fiona stopped hopping, tears of embarrassment in her eyes, but she nodded. “Yes, Jeff. I love it.”

David was thoroughly convinced now. “Man, that’s crazy. You’ve really got her under your control.”

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of power and guilt. “Yeah, but remember, it’s all in good fun. Right, Mom?”

Fiona’s voice was soft and resigned. “Yes, Jeff. It’s all in good fun.”

“Now, sit in David’s lap,” I reminded her. I could tell my Mom was resistant.

“Do you want a cigarette?” I asked. It was strange how asking her for a light, or a cigarette would somehow motivate her to stop trying to fight against the programming I had woven like a web over her mind over the last 18 months.

She sat on David’s lap, letting her naked ass rest on his jeans. “Ouch, your belt is hurting me, David.”

“That’s okay, Mom. You like a belt to the ass. You will bump and grind on David because it’s fun to dry hump him as long as you don’t want to smoke?”

My Mom agreed and began to give my best friend the lap dance of his life.

“How did you do this, dude?”

“I honestly don’t know. My Mom bought me a hypnosis book for my birthday and jokingly asked if I could help her stop smoking. It’s a nasty habit, and she wants to give it up. I planted other small suggestions, like letting me stay out all night. I was skeptical, just like you, that she was just pretending to go along with it. Eventually, I ordered her to strip naked and cluck like a chicken, and that’s when I realized that my Mom is really suggestable.”

“Oh my god, I want to see that!”

David couldn’t wait for my mother to perform.

“Mom, our guests want you to be a chicken. You are now in a barnyard, and you’ve become a delicious, white chicken, squawking and pecking on the farm.”

My mother’s eyes grew wide in recognition of the order that she had been given, and then they glazed over.

“This is actually one of the exercises I do with her almost every day. I find that reinforcing her verbal and physical programming through repetition only makes the suggestions stronger,” I explained as my mother slid off of David’s lap and down to the floor.

My mother squatted on the balls of her feet and began to flap her arms while pecking by moving her head like a chicken and making chicken noises.

David was laughing hysterically as my mother squawked, flapped her wings (arms folded at her side) and waddled around pretending to lay imaginary eggs on the carpet. It was pretty fucking funny and I never tired of it. I’ve sometimes left her as a chicken for several hours while I went out of the house and come back only to find her roosting somewhere on a pile of clothes like it was a nest.

David started laughing. “That was some lap dance, but this is great! Can you do it to anyone?”

“Do you want me to try on you?”

“Fuck no, dude!”

“I’ve tried it on a few girls, but no dice. I think it takes certain types of minds, and the subject has to REALLY want to be hypnotized in the first place.”

“Does Steve know?”

“I already told you, David. You are the ONLY person I’ve told,” I reiterated. There was no way I was telling my mom’s asshole of a boyfriend. I almost never talk to that guy. I thought about making my mother break up with him, but I couldn’t do that to her. She really seemed to like him.

“How does he not figure out his girlfriend is a chicken?” David asked.

“I don’t keep her in this state all the time. She has to work, pay bills, clean the house, and I let her go on dates with Steve.”

If he moved in with us, that would be a different story. That would definitely cramp my style. I let her spend the night at his house sometimes. The poor bastard had no idea that his girlfriend was my hypno-slave.

“LET HER? Oh man,” David found that hysterical.

My mother was obliviously pecking around the living room. I put some birdseed on the ground for her to pick up with her teeth.

“Yes, I allow it. If I told her to stop seeing Steve, she would.”