My Hypnotized Family (Book 1 of 3)
Copyright© 2025 by The Naughty Three
Day 5
Mind Control Sex Story: Day 5 - You're a young psych grad who loses everything and moves back with your hot curvy MILF mom (40s nurse) and two sexy sisters. Older sis hates you, rocks gothic style with long dark nails and the roundest, sexiest ass ever. Younger sis is naïve, cute, and sweet: loves candy, stuffed animals, pink, with perky petite tits. Mom hooks you up with her hypnotherapist friend; you assist, watching her work. Tempted by the power, you learn hypnosis to mind-control your family into obedient lovers/slaves.
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Hypnosis Mind Control Fiction Incest Mother Son Brother Sister BDSM MaleDom Harem Black Female White Male White Female Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Sex Toys Spitting Squirting Big Breasts Doctor/Nurse Small Breasts
MMmhhh ... zzzk ... hmm.
I woke up to a bright room. The sun had been up for a while.
Strange ... I feel pretty good.
And for once, I didn’t have those weird sexual dreams.
It must be because of the hypnosis session with Stella, but I didn’t think it’d be this effective. It’s like my mind was completely cleared of conflict, like a clean slate.
It feels amazing.
But how did she do it? She made me think of my deepest desires and made me visualize them...
My mom and sisters were on leashes, pregnant and begging for me to fuck them raw. Their breasts were hanging, heavy with milk, and I could make them do whatever I wanted.
And then she aligned these thoughts with my conscious ones. It used to make me squeamish just thinking about it.
But now ... now it just feels like a part of me.
Enough of that. It’s late. I’d better go down for breakfast.
I dressed and went downstairs, where a table strewn with a few plates and mugs greeted me.
Lucy and Helen had already left, but mom was washing something in the sink. I got a good look at her impressive ass before she heard me approaching.
“Hey, sweetie! You’re finally awake,” she said warmly, turning to face me with her usual radiant maternal smile.
Don’t think about yesterday. Don’t think about it. Just act normal, or she’ll figure out I was peeping on her and Stella.
“Ahem. Hey, mom. What about Lucy and Helen?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice steady.
“Lucy said she’d go to a friend’s house and Helen ... I don’t know, but I think she’s out training. She was quite worried, I could tell, even though she tried to hide it,” mom explained, putting a plate in the dishwasher with practiced efficiency.
“But I didn’t want to ask any questions ... you know how she can be,” she added with a knowing look.
“Yeah ... did she say anything about hypnosis? I tried it on her yesterday, but I’m not sure it worked properly,” I said, genuinely curious about the results.
“Not really, dear. She was in quite a hurry,” mom replied, then paused, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “But now that you mention it, I wanted to talk to you about it. I was trying to find a solution to my weight gain, and so far, I’ve found nothing that works.”
Mom finished racking the dishes in the dishwasher and turned to face me as she pulled the plastic gloves off.
“I’m thinking of hypnotherapy to solve it,” she said hesitantly, her vulnerability showing through her usual confident demeanor.
“I’ve talked about it to Stella; she mentioned it isn’t that complicated and that it could be done in less than half an hour.”
“I wanted to ask you if you could do it for mommy as well. What do you think, sweetie?” she asked, her voice carrying that pleading tone mothers use when they need something from their children.
I’m not going to lie – I knew what she was going to say, and I completely zoned out and started thinking about her and Stella from yesterday.
I saw them on the couch again. Mom was quite drunk, and Stella had removed her shoes and was inching closer to her, wine glass in hand.
Stella leaned in for a kiss...
“I would have asked Stella to do it, but she seems so busy lately, and I don’t want to bother her, even though she’s a good friend. Uhm, what do you think? Are you too busy?” mom continued, her voice breaking into my reverie.
“Uhh ... Right now?” I asked, snapping back to attention.
“Well, not right now! Whenever you’re free. I know you’re busy with work. Stella can be quite demanding,” she clarified quickly, not wanting to impose.
“I’m free today. Besides, it’s a simple procedure, and I need to practice,” I replied, my heart already racing with anticipation.
“How about at 11? I need to review some material before I start.”
“Thank you so much, sweetie! You’re such a good boy and it makes me so happy that you want to help mommy! Where can we go?” she gushed, her face lighting up with genuine gratitude.
“Your bedroom will do. You need a relaxing environment to get the best results anyway. I’ll be there at 11,” I said, trying to sound professional despite the thrill running through me.
“Good. I’ll be waiting. Eat up and don’t forget to clear the table when you’re done,” she instructed, setting a plate with two pieces of toast in front of me.
“Yeah, ok,” I agreed, watching her leave the kitchen.
Mom left, and quiet finally came to the kitchen.
I ate my toast in silence as the sun warmed my back. I enjoyed the peaceful moment.
I needed to review some material before going to mom’s bedroom.
11 o’clock came quickly, and soon I was knocking on mom’s door.
“Come in!” her voice called out, carrying a note of nervous anticipation.
Mom was sitting on the bed waiting for me. She wore her usual clothes, with a cleavage deep enough that I stopped for an instant at the door as I fought my urge to take a good look at her.
Focus, Alex ... focus.
I decided to try the Dave Elman method for the session, which was supposed to make the victim— I mean patient so relaxed it allowed the hypnotherapist to probe deeper into their mind and get a more powerful result.
“Ready to start? It’ll be better if you sit on the chair over there,” I instructed, pointing to the armchair in the corner.
“Not on the bed? I thought you needed me to lie down for this,” mom said with mild confusion, shifting uncertainly.
“That’s just regular therapy. Sit on that chair and make yourself comfortable,” I explained, my voice taking on a more authoritative tone.
“Ok,” she agreed, moving to the chair with trusting compliance.
“Good, now in a moment, I’m going to start the session to help you in your weight loss journey. Once I start, nothing will be able to disrupt the process, and all you have to do is follow my instructions,” I said, establishing the hypnotic contract.
“Ok, sweetie. I’m ready,” she replied, settling back in the chair with complete faith in her son.
“Excellent. Now close your eyes and take a deep breath. And again.”
Mom’s eyelids fluttered closed as she followed my commands with perfect obedience.
“Now take the deepest breath you can, and then ... take one more. Now breathe out slowly.”
“Now breathe normally and shrug your shoulders, let go of your arms. Let them flop to your sides. Relax completely.”
“Now focus on your eyes. Your eyelids are heavy, your muscles feel numb, and your eyes are so relaxed you can’t open them.”
I had mom exactly where I wanted her. I got a good look at her mature body as she closed her eyes. I kept talking as I took in her breasts and thighs, the slender curve of her clavicle, and the thin lines etching her neck.
“You are very relaxed, and now you sink deeper and deeper into this state, allowing your consciousness to dissipate.”
Mom’s arms relaxed, falling to her sides as her shoulders dropped.
“But now you’re able to open your eyelids once more. Just like when you wake up hours before your alarm. Open them slightly, then close them again, and you will sink into a trance ten times deeper than before.”
“You can still open your eyes, do it again, slowly ... and close them as you sink ten times deeper into the trance.”
“Now do it again ... and close your eyes for the final time. Now, you won’t be able to open them anymore.”
“Don’t lose my voice and let yourself be comfortable.”
Now, what did the manual say? Uhm ... check her arm, that’s it! I need to check if her arms are limp.
I took mom’s arm and lifted it to see if it was limp. If she resisted or gave any indication she was aware of me touching her, it meant that the trance wasn’t deep enough.
Damn, she smells nice...
Mom wasn’t responding, and her arm remained limp as I moved it. I knew she wouldn’t react to anything I did to her.
I wanted to feel how smooth her arms were, how soft her neck was, and how perky her nipples were under her tight top.
I reached out, my hand hovering an inch from her shoulder, but I restrained myself and got back to work. There were things I needed to do first.
“Now, I will start a countdown ... a countdown from 100. I want you to follow the countdown in your mind, and each number you think of will make you enter a deeper state of relaxation.”
“Ready... 100 and you go deeper in the trance... 99 ... and deeper... 98 ... and even deeper”
“With each number I call you will start to lose count, 97 ... and deeper, until you will lose sight of the number, and you cannot recall which one I mentioned last.”
“96...”
“95...”
“When you do, you’ll be at the deepest level of the trance, and you will move a finger to signal you are there.”
“94...”
“93...”
After a few seconds mom’s finger twitched. I kept on counting, making her sink deeper into her trance so that her consciousness strayed ever closer to her subconscious. In this state, it would be easier to pry into her mind.
“Now, on the count of three, I will say a word, and you will fall deeper into your trance. And every time you hear that word, you will fall back into this state of conscious sleep.”
“1...”
“2...”
“3...”
“Slumber!”
As soon as the words left my lips mom’s head flopped forward. She barely kept upright as her consciousness slipped away.
“Mmmm ... hhhnn...” she murmured unconsciously.
Good, it’s working! And now...
“Now relax and focus on my voice. I will ask you some questions, and you will answer truthfully,” I commanded with growing confidence.
“Mmmmhh...” came her compliant response.
“Are you struggling with your weight because of your diet?”
“Hnnn ... y ... yes...” she admitted reluctantly, even in her trance state.
Mom is pretty stressed because of her job, and because she has to raise the three of us alone. Now, I need to find the source of her bad diet.
“And do you eat too much because of stress?”
“ ... yes...” The word came out as barely a whisper.
“Do you care about your children?”
“Yes...” This answer came more quickly, with genuine emotion even in her unconscious state.
“And you work overtime to provide for their happiness, is that right? So you indulge in food and drink when you get home to cope with the stress.”
“Mmmhh,” she agreed with a soft moan.
“Is it because you’re raising them without a man in the house?”
“Mmmmmm...” Her response was ambiguous, making it impossible to tell if that was agreement or resistance.
No idea if that’s a yes or a no. And Dave Elman doesn’t advise on partial or incomplete answers.
I could try asking her again, but that would risk her seeing a pattern and regaining her consciousness. I’ll just have to take a gamble here, but which angle should I pick?
What is the main reason behind mom’s bad diet?
Mom was always supportive of us, and now she’s overworking herself to provide for us, and I can’t do much to repay her kindness.
“You always work hard for your kids, providing for their happiness. Think of a time you were working and thought about them. How did you feel?”
“MMmhh...” she responded with what sounded like painful memory.
“It must have been hard to keep going, but you did. Now think of when you saw your kids happy, and picture them clearly in front of you. Why are they happy?”
“...” Her silence was expectant, waiting for me to guide her deeper.
“They are happy because you are there with them. They are happy because they can see you, share a meal and chat about their lives and dreams with you.”
“Your mere presence is enough to make your children happy.”
“The real way to your children’s happiness is through the simple pleasures of life, sharing a meal, and listening to music. But there are other pleasures as well.”
“...” Again, that receptive silence.
Mom wasn’t reacting to my provocative questions, and I felt a lump form in my throat. I hesitated.
Should I press on and try to make it sexual? Maybe I could accelerate mom’s conditioning this way and get what I wanted from her quicker.
I need to take a step back. Focus on mom’s diet first.
“You see? You can make them happy without stressing over work. It’s the simple things that matter,” I said, steering back to safer territory.
Mom’s expression softened, a hint of peace crossing her features.
“Now visualize yourself enjoying your time with your children. They’re happy you’re there with them. Let yourself be transported by this happiness.”
“Then you see a plate full of food. You take it, but you don’t eat. Instead, I want you to shatter it on the floor.”
“Mmgghh...” Mom let out a grunt and her head jerked up, only to fall back down. I stopped and wondered if she was waking up.
Shit, she looks agitated. I hope this works.
“From now on, you will no longer associate this item with fulfillment.”
“From now on, you will avoid eating excessively. You won’t need it, since you have all you need to be happy right in front of you. You won’t need to work overtime or stress out over your job. You can just relax and enjoy your life.”
“Mhh ... hnnn...” Mom’s protests grew weaker as the suggestion took hold.
Mom stopped moving and fell silent once again.
“Hold onto this joy, relish in it, treasure it.”
That should fix her diet. I could end the session here...
... but there is something else I need to do.
“Now, remember why being with your children made you so happy.”
“...” Her receptive silence encouraged me to continue.
“They were with you in your darkest moments, and in your happiest ones. You shared everything with them.”
“You want to reciprocate the happiness they are giving you. You want to show them how much you appreciate their presence.”
“Mh ... yes...” The word came out as a breathy affirmation.
“Suddenly, they turn their backs on you and start leaving. The world around you darkens, and you feel a heaviness clutch your heart.”
“Nnnn ... please -” Panic crept into her unconscious voice.
“The only way you’ll keep them with you is by giving them something more.”
“Mmhh...?” Her confusion was palpable even in the trance.
“Yes, pleasure.”
“You must take care of their needs with your love. You must give them what no one else can. A mother’s love.”
Mom started to fidget in the chair as if she was trying to escape her trance. My heart was beating hard in my chest. I couldn’t fail here.
“Mmm- I want to mh...” she mumbled, her subconscious struggling with the taboo suggestions.
She’s ready. I just need to deliver the final blow.
“You embrace your children, showering them in your motherly love. But you soon realize you want to be closer to them, more intimate.”
“...” Mom fell silent and stopped moving. I could feel my heart pulsing through my neck, and I struggled to keep my voice steady.
“Your love for them is so deep your clothes seem like an unwanted guest.”
“Wha- no ... wait ... mhhh” she protested weakly, a frown appearing on her face.
“Your children’s breaths quicken and they start taking your clothes off, one at a time. You love the attention and do the same for them.”
“Finally, you are all naked, and you can finally connect with your children.”
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