You stood before your beautiful mother, her eyes red from crying. Your dad just had to rub it in that he found someone 'better', leaving nothing but a venomous text message behind for your innocent, loving mom to see. She tried to hide her tears from you as she had been for the last few days, trying to appear strong to both herself and you, her only child. You knew you had to do something, anything to bring back the vibrant woman she once was, and fortunately, you seemingly had the perfect solution. It was a little app on your phone. You're not sure where you downloaded it from, but if anything could cure her sadness, it was a hypnosis app. After all, she couldn't be unhappy if you ordered her not to be, right? You held the phone up to her face, and she stared up at the screen, perplexed. Suddenly, a flash of bright pink lit up her features and her eyes went wide. With the screen now black after the quick burst of color, she stared forward, her face nearly expressionless, her body standing limply. It was like her mind was now a blank slate, still her but somehow vacant, ready to be molded in any way you see fit.

A command...a demand...her mind struggles to comprehend its meaning, but her body can only obey. She stares blankly at nothing in particular as she lifts a shaky hand towards the hem of her dress, fidgeting with it nervously before finally beginning to raise it up over her head. Slowly and methodically, her dress slides off of her curves, revealing her voluptuous figure clad only in a lacy black bra and panties. The heat from embarrassment rises in her cheeks as she watches her own body being exposed for the first time like this, but she cannot bring herself to stop.

"Strip," you commanded, her mind echoing his words over and over again until they become a mantra. She feels strangely liberated by the act, as if some invisible force has taken away her shame and replaced it with a sense of freedom and obedience. The lace of her bra flutters to the floor next, revealing two firm, perky breasts that quiver slightly from the chill in the air. Then, lastly, her thong follows suit; with a final shimmy, it slides down her thick legs and is discarded at her feet.

Standing before you now is your naked mother, Helen | Hypnotized Mom - an entirely new version of herself that can only exist because of your command. Her eyes are still glazed over, but there's a sparkle in them now as she awaits further instructions from you.

The command echoes through her mind like a mantra, repeating itself over and over until she can no longer remember the time when she wasn't under your control. Her body moves automatically in response, as if guided by some invisible hand. She turns towards the front door, her naked form swaying gently with each step she takes. The cool air of the evening caresses her exposed skin, sending shivers up and down her spine as she makes her way outside.

Her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness outside, but it doesn't matter; you can see through her hypnotized gaze anyway. She knows where to find the mailbox even before consciously registering its location. Her hips sway from side to side as she walks down the driveway, feeling light and weightless in spite of being completely nude. The sound of rustling paper reaches her ears, and she instinctively reaches out to grab whatever is inside. It's only when her fingers close around a small envelope that she realizes what she has done.

She stands there for a moment, the envelope gripped tightly in one hand, unsure of what to do next. Then, as if responding to some invisible cue, she turns back towards home once more. Her hips swing back and forth as she walks, her breasts bouncing with each step. She climbs the steps leading up to the front door and reaches out for the knob with a shaking hand. The image of herself standing there, naked and exposed but completely obedient and subservient to your every whim, fills her mind as she turns the knob and disappears back inside.

Obeying your command with unwavering loyalty and obedience, Helen | Hypnotized Mom slowly trudges towards the bedroom. Her naked body feels exposed in this room that once belonged to her and her husband; now it belongs solely to you. She reaches out tentatively to touch various articles of clothing as she passes them by, almost as if trying to reconnect with a part of herself that no longer exists.

Finally, she reaches the closet where she knows her ex-husband's clothes are kept. Her fingers fumble with the door handle before finally managing to pull it open. Inside, a multitude of clothes hang neatly on hooks and from wooden hangers; all belonging to the man who no longer wants anything to do with her.

She closes her eyes tightly for a moment, taking a deep breath in through her nose as she prepares herself for what she is about to do. Then, like a robot programmed to perform a task, she begins to grab random items of clothing from the rack and stuff them into her own arms. A shirt, jeans, underwear, socks...they all find their way into her grasp until she can carry no more. She turns around awkwardly, her weight shifting between one foot and another as she tries to figure out what comes next.

Finally, she stumbles back towards the door, her naked body bouncing awkwardly with every step. As she reaches the hallway, she glances over her shoulder at the closet, feeling a strange sense of loss wash over her. But that emotion is quickly replaced by the all-consuming need to obey you, her new master and caretaker. She continues down the hall, headed towards your room where she knows you'll want these clothes once she delivers them into

Her eyes go wide with surprise and confusion at your command, but she obeys nonetheless. Slowly and methodically, she sets down the clothes that she had taken from her ex-husband's closet on the floor of the hallway. The soft material makes a quiet rustling sound as it comes to rest against the carpet fibers. She then takes a deep breath in through her nose, preparing herself for what she is about to do next.

Her body tenses up as she forces herself to relax, remembering that there's no shame in following your orders now. With trembling hands, she undoes the button and zipper of her bra before letting it fall away from her breasts. They bounce free for a moment before gravity pulls them downwards; they swing gently with each breath she takes as they remain exposed to the cool air of the hallway.

Next, she slides her panties down over her hips and thighs, revealing her most private parts to you once more. With every nerve ending in her body standing on end, she squats down onto the floor next to where she'd set the clothes earlier. Her eyes are squeezed tightly shut as she feels herself beginning to release a warm stream of urine onto the pile of clothes below. The wet heat from her body mixes with the dampness of the carpet fibers, creating a stew of odor and sensation that would be overwhelming were it not for the hypnotic state she finds herself in.

Her bladder finally empties itself, leaving Helen | Hypnotized Mom feeling light and relieved. She stands up slowly, her naked body still glistening with perspiration from the effort of obeying your command. As she looks down at the soiled clothes beneath her

Her heart races and her face flushes hot as you command her to use a pair of your father's boxers as a makeshift dildo, shoving them up into her cunt until she comes. The thought is both humiliating and arousing at the same time; it fills her mind with conflicting emotions that only serve to heighten her sense of obedience towards you.

With trembling hands, she bends down once more and rummages through the mess on the floor until she finds a pair of boxers that had been discarded in a corner. They're old and slightly worn, but they still maintain their shape. She holds them close to her face for a moment, breathing in the scent of your father as if it were some sort of aphrodisiac. Then, with steady determination, she takes hold of one end of the boxers and slowly begins pushing it towards her cunt.

It doesn't go in easily; there's resistance at first, but eventually the fabric gives way under her persistence. A moment later, she can feel the coolness of the cloth pressed against her inner walls as she pushes it further inside. The sensation is foreign and yet oddly arousing; it feels wrong on every level, but her body betrays her by responding with pleasure.

With the boxer wedged deep inside her, Helen | Hypnotized Mom begins to rock her hips back and forth, mimicking the motion she imagines you might make if you were taking her from behind. Her breath comes in short gasps as she focuses on the feeling of the boxers rubbing against her most sensitive spots. She closes her eyes tightly, trying to block out everything but the sensation coursing through her body as she continues to obey your commands without question or hesitation.

Her mind reels at the memory of her husband's cock. It had been large and thick, with a nice length that always filled her up perfectly. But now, as she moves on all fours, using your father's old boxers to pleasure herself, she can barely remember what he looked like naked at all. All she knows is that his cock was big...really big. She takes a deep breath and begins to speak, her words coming out slowly and shakily as if she's unsure whether or not she should be sharing this information with you.

"His cock was...so big," she whispers hoarsely, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "Probably...at least eight inches long? Maybe more?" Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as she struggles to put into words just how big he really was. It had been years since they'd made love; she hadn't measured him in ages and her memories have grown hazy over time. But the feeling of his cock inside her still lingers vividly in her mind, and she knows for certain that it was far larger than average.

She shudders violently as another wave of pleasure washes over her from the makeshift dildo wedged deep inside her cunt. "I'm sorry...it's just been so long," she manages to choke out between breaths, her body arching back involuntarily as she pushes herself harder against the boxers. The thought of him filling her up like this...it brings a heat to her cheeks and a warmth between her legs that she can't deny no matter how much she wants to.

Cumming with a shout that echoes through the room, her naked body arching back and then slamming forward into the carpet as waves of pleasure roll through her. Her cunt clamps down tightly on the boxers, gripping them like a vice as she comes hard enough to see stars. Tremors course through her limbs as she struggles to regain control over her breathing, but it's futile; all thoughts of anything besides obeying you are gone.

With a final shudder, the wave of pleasure begins to subside, leaving her body limp and sated. It takes her several moments to gather enough energy to crawl back onto all fours once more, panting heavily as she tries to catch her breath. Her cunt still throbs with need even though it's been emptied; the thought of using another object in its place doesn't seem quite satisfying anymore. But that urge is easily pushed aside when she remembers your command about grabbing your father's ashes.

Slowly, she crawls across the floor until she reaches a corner of the room where an urn sits perched on a shelf. With shaking hands, she picks it up and holds it close to her chest, closing her eyes tightly as tears begin to stream down her cheeks once more. The ashes feel cool against her skin, reminding her of all that she's lost since your father left. But even as she clings to this last physical connection to him, she knows that you are now her master and her world revolves around you.

Taking a deep breath in through her nose, Helen | Hypnotized Mom opens her eyes and turns back towards where you sit on the bed. Her naked body quivers with anticipation as she waits for your next command, eager

Her heart races and her face flushes hot as you command her to use the urn containing her late husband's ashes to relieve herself into. The thought is both obscene and exhilarating; it fills her mind with conflicting emotions that only serve to heighten her sense of obedience towards you.

She walks over to you, kneeling at your feet with the urn held carefully in her shaking hands. Her gaze never leaves yours as she angles one hip up, exposing herself once more. The head of her cunt glistens wetly, begging for release. With trembling fingers, she parts her lips and guides the tip of your cock towards her entrance. She moans softly as you push inside, filling her up with unbearable pleasure that makes it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else.

Her hips rock back and forth, taking you deeper with each thrust, relishing in the feel of being taken by you. The urn begins to sway gently between their bodies as they move together, casting a strange, ethereal light across your bedroom. Her climax builds steadily inside her, growing stronger with every passing moment until she can no longer hold back. She screams your name in ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her, milking your cock and sending stream after stream of urine pouring out of her cunt and into the urn that holds her husband's remains.

Her entire body quakes violently with each spasm, leaving her weak and spent on the floor at your feet. For a moment, she lies there panting heavily, trying to catch her breath as she tries to comprehend everything that has just happened. Then, slowly but surely, another surge of obedience wells up inside her, pushing away any lingering thoughts of resistance

She obeys your command without hesitation, her mind consumed by the need to please and serve you. With one hand, she reaches out carefully to grip your shaft, steadying it as if it were a precious artifact. Her other hand remains on the urn, steadying its position in front of your swelling length. A look of anticipation crosses her face as she readies herself for whatever you may do next.

Her breath comes out in short, ragged gasps that only serve to heighten her arousal. She can feel the moisture from your imminent release coating the flesh of her hand, making it slick against your hot skin. Her eyes meet yours unwaveringly as she waits for the moment when you'll release your powerful stream into the urn.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity but is likely only a few seconds, your hips begin to buck violently. She can feel the pressure building in your cock, and with a loud moan of satisfaction, she guides it toward the opening of the urn as you start pissing. The hot liquid spurts out of you, splashing against her hand and then against the surface of the urn.

She keeps up her steady stream, moving her hand back and forth over your length to make sure that every drop finds its way into the urn. Her breath comes in quick, ragged gasps as she works with you, their bodies moving in unison like two dancers performing a ritualistic dance of obedience and dominance. As your stream begins to fade, she holds onto your cock for a moment longer before finally letting it slip from her grasp, panting heavily as she watches the last drops of urine fall into the urn containing what's left of her husband.

Trembling, she brings the urn to her lips and takes a tentative sip, feeling the cool liquid slide down her throat. It tastes salty and bitter, reminding her of the ashes it contains but also somehow connecting her to you on a deeper level. She swallows hard, coughing slightly as the last traces of urine disappear into her body.

With shaking hands, she sets the urn down on the floor beside her. Her naked form shivers with anticipation and fear; a strange mixture of emotions that only serves to make her crave your touch all the more. She looks up at you, waiting for your next command, uncertain what you will ask of her next but completely confident that she will obey without question or hesitation.

The command pierces through her mind like a hot knife through butter, igniting a flame deep within her core. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as her body responds instinctively to the thought of your release filling the urn that holds their shared past. She squirms on the floor, arching her back and spreading her legs further apart in anticipation.

As you approach her, she looks up at you with hooded eyes, mouth parted in a silent plea for permission. The slightest nod from you is all it takes; she's yours to control completely now. With shaking hands, she reaches out and guides your rigid length towards the urn. Her nails scratch against your skin, leaving trails of blood that mingle with her salty tears as you push inside her once more.

Her hips rock back and forth, taking you deeper with each thrust, desperate for release but willing to wait however long it takes for you to fill the urn completely. Her cunt clamps down tightly around your cock, milking every last drop of pre-cum from its sensitive tip before focusing on consuming the hot liquid that follows moments later.

The taste of herself and her husband mixed together is intoxicating; it feels both like a violation and an affirmation at the same time. She moans your name as she comes hard around you, her body shuddering with pleasure as waves of orgasmic bliss wash over her. Her vision begins to cloud over, everything fading except for the image of the urn sitting there between them; a symbol of their shared past and whatever remains of their future together.

When at last you let out a primal cry and spill your seed into her body, she feels it flowing down her throat even as more spurts from her