﻿The Second Machine

by Pan



Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2024-02-16 22:55:57
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,213
Publisher: mcstories.com
Story URL: https://mcstories.com/SecondMachine/index.html
Author URL: https://mcstories.com/Authors/Pan.html
Summary: Edie’s brother invents yet another machine to control her.
Erotica Tags: in, mc, md, mf





TABLE OF CONTENTS


Chapter 1

Chapter 2



	Chapter 1

“Ew,” my sister said, pushing me away in disgust. I quickly pressed the button as she stormed out and shouted back over her shoulder, “You’re _so_ gross!”

I’d been expecting that reaction. I was disappointed, but not surprised—after all, it was the sixth time I’d heard her say it. As far as my sister Edie was concerned, however, it was the first time I’d asked her to suck my cock—and the first time she’d rejected me.

People will call me a genius. They’ll also call me a pervert, but that won’t matter, because even as they object to following my every command, they’ll obey.

Just like my sister.

* * *

The first machine had been pretty easy to build; if you know as much about the human brain as I do, you know exactly what wavelengths to transmit upon. Every thought we have is electricity, after all, and if you can manipulate electricity, you can manipulate thought.

What you can’t do, I discovered after months of testing, is fine-tune people’s thoughts. Can’t be done—the alterations are too subtle. They’re almost impossibly small, and the slightest error would cause the changes of a different thought. I’d tried for a long time, but I was finally forced to admit—I didn’t have the “mind ray” that I wanted, able to rewrite people’s thoughts based on my every whim.

But what I’d discovered while meddling was fascinating in itself—I’d learned that by transmitting on the opposite frequency to the hippocampus’s electrical pulses, you can cancel them out—and as we all (should) know, the hippocampus is where long-term memory is stored.

As long as I hit you at the right time, you’ll forget the last ten minutes ever happened. Gone, as if erased from time itself.

After confirming that it worked on rats, I tested it on myself—I used a video camera and a meticulously-kept diary. I had a memory eraser—useful, but I knew that there was more that I could do. The ability to alter the brain’s impulses directly is an almost totally-unexplored field—probably for ethical reasons, but I wasn’t letting that stop me.

I knew that I had the potential to do anything. Great and terrible acts.

And so I built the second machine.

You can’t fine-tune people’s reactions, write their thoughts like you’re programming a computer: but what you can do is block the part of their brain that compels them to act on their reactions. I could never convince Obama to hate America, but I _could_ get him to unnoticeingly obey my commands to destroy it. As long as he was focused on how much he loved the US, he wouldn’t notice that his actions were contradicting his emotion.

At least, that was the theory. It wasn’t quite working, but since my first machine let me replay the same moment again and again, I could keep on refining my experiment until I was successful.

The next day, Edie didn’t blink an eye when I asked if I could use her as a “test subject”. I knew she wouldn’t—I’d asked her the same question the last 7 days in a row, and she was always happy to help out. As far as she was concerned, I was just her nerdy brother—and she was one of the few people who saw the potential of my genius.

I hooked her up to the machine, watched as it scanned her brain function, and made a few notes. Over the past week, I’d become extremely well-accustomed with my sister’s brainwaves. Without even looking at her, I could read her exact emotions, just by watching the peaks and troughs of her mind.

Today I was sure that I’d made a break-through—instead of trying to diminish the activity, I’d altered the machine so that it amplified her real reaction, allowing my changes to slip through unnoticed, and (in the process) bring her emotions back down to a more normal level.

Either this would work, or she’d be so disgusted by the idea that she’d throw up.

Part of it, I can’t deny, was simply because I was horny and my sister was hot. Edie has always had a body to kill for, and the few glimpses I’ve had of her curves have left me curious as to what’s hidden underneath her stuffy clothes.

But the main reason for using my sister as a test subject was simple—if I could make her do something completely against her nature, then I knew that I could affect anyone, anywhere at any time. If I could get my sister to suck my cock, then the human race was mine to play with.

I set everything up, asked her a few sample questions, and then got to the moment of truth, if you will. (and believe me, I hoped that she would.)

“Edie,” I said, my eyes darting back and forth between my computer and her face. “Suck my cock”

My finger was hovered over the machine that would ensure the past ten minutes hadn’t happened as she responded.

“Ew!” she exclaimed, her inflection extremely familiar to me by now. “You’re _so_ gross.”

But this time, instead of pushing me and storming out, she got down on her knees in front of me.

* * *

The portable version was, I had to admit, a bold move—but what’s the point in complete control over someone if they have to be strapped into a machine while you do it?

Since the previous day, Edie hadn’t said a thing about my odd request. She definitely hadn’t forgotten—unlike in experiments 1-7, this one hadn’t ended with me using the button, and I could tell from her demeanour that she remembered me asking her to suck me off.

If my hypothesis was correct, she wouldn’t remember actually doing it—I was sure that she’d performed the blow-job completely unconsciously, even trying to talk once or twice while my cock was in her mouth. When it was done, I’d told her that she could leave, and she’d sarcastically thanked me, as if there had been nothing keeping her in the room in the first place.

Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do (short of erasing her memory) about her remembering that I’d asked for head, but we’ve always had an unspoken rule that we sort things out between ourselves. I think the last time one of us went to Mom was when she was 8, and the merciless teasing I’d given her for the next few months had ensured that it wouldn’t happen again.

“Edie,” I said, ignoring her glare and pressing the button on my new, portable device. “You’ve got a great body—you should take your clothes off and let me see it.”

“What the hell is wrong with you??” she asked angrily, standing and beginning to unbutton her shirt. I tried to keep the look of triumph off my face. “First you ask me to...to blow you yesterday, and now this?”

She continued to rant and rave as the rest of her clothes hit the floor, and soon she was standing in front of me, completely starkers for the first time. I drank in the view, but knew that I had to hurry—there was too much to test before Mom came home, and I had some vital questions that needed answering before I could continue my experimentation.

“You can put your clothes back on,” I said, and she looked confused for a second, before redressing in silence. When she was done, but before she could march out of the room, I continued.

“When Mom comes home, I want you to offer to cook dinner.” I instructed her calmly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, bro?” she exploded. “You are being so fucking weird at the moment—why the fuck would I do that? I hate cooking dinner. You know what, just leave me alone!”

“Stay there,” I said, and she just shook her head and stormed out.

I had a moment of panic—had the machine stopped working? I glanced at it, and it still seemed to be buzzing along as normal. Part of me wanted to go back to my room and start analysing the data, like a proper scientist, but the rest of me...well, I wanted to see how far I could push it.

As soon as I entered Edie’s room, I ducked. She threw a pillow at me, yelling at me to “get out”, but I just stood there quietly, and activated the machine once more.

“You’re not allowed to wear panties any more,” I said, loudly enough to make sure she could hear me over her shouts. “Whenever you’re at home, I want you wearing a short skirt. When we’re alone, I want you to call me master. And whenever Mom leaves us alone in the room, and it’s just the two of us...I want you to flash me your pussy.”

For a second, I was worried that I’d gone too far. She looked angrier than I’d ever seen her—angrier than I’d ever seen anyone, in fact. She was furious, and clearly disgusted, but she’d stopped throwing things at me, and was just glaring straight at me.

“Now,” I added, “I want you to masturbate for me while I watch.”

There was a few seconds of silence, as Edie choked on words—she was clearly too angry and disgusted to speak...but she started unbuttoning her jeans, and reached into her draw to pull a small, bullet vibrator out. I’d had no idea she owned one of those.

“You disgusting freak,” she said, turning the vibrator on and running it up and down the outside of her panties. “Why would you want your own sister to do this, master?”

I was fairly sure that she hadn’t realised what she said, and I was one-hundred percent sure she wasn’t aware of what she was doing. She continued to verbally abuse me for the next five minutes, as one hand reached under her shirt and started playing with her nipple, and the vibrator slipped inside of her. Even as she came, she was telling me off for being a disgusting pig, calling me master all the while.

Afterward, she just glared at me, her face red from exertion, panting, and occasionally shaking with the aftershocks of what must have been an extremely powerful orgasm. Neither of us spoke—I just stood there, a huge grin on my face, and she stared at me with a strange mixture of hate and lust in her eyes.

I only moved when I heard the sound of Mom’s keys in the door. I knew that I had to go and type up the strangest progress report anyone had ever written.

* * *

To my surprise, Edie didn’t cook dinner that night. She didn’t leave her room again at all, in fact—my initial theory was that long-term commands disappeared as soon as the emotion did, but when Mom left for work the next day, Edie disproved that when she knocked at my door and asked if we could talk.

“What’s up?” I asked, trying to stay calm and collected. I turned to face her, unable to stop a smile flashing across my face as I saw her legs, barely covered by the skirt she wore. She took a deep breath, quickly flashed me her pussy, and continued.

“I just wanted to talk about what happened yesterday, Master.”

Her tone was worried, but her words, choice in clothing, and that brief glance at her pussy told me that yes, commands could last (at least) overnight. She wasn’t even showing a glimmer of self-awareness: I don’t think she had any idea what I’d just said.

My smile turned into a wide grin.

“Jesus, I’m serious! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Master, but it’s not fucking funny.”

My face the picture of innocence, I apologized, and asked her to go on. I wasn’t really listening as she spoke about how my actions recently had made her feel really uncomfortable, and that she loved me and wanted to help me get through whatever I was blah blah blah. All I could think about was the machine, burning a hole in my pocket.

Finally she got to the end of her little speech about treating her like a person and a sister and whatever. I’d been nodding along, but the second she stopped, I reached into my pocket and activated the device once more.

“The more disgusted you are by what I make you do, the more it will turn you on.” I said, and she began to explode in anger once more.

“Fucking hell, Master!! Have you not been listening? You can’t—you can’t treat me like this!!”

“Take your clothes off and get on your hands and knees,” I said. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“Master, this is exactly what I’m talking about,” Edie said in frustration as she slipped her miniskirt off, showing that she’d obeyed my instructions to the letter. “You can’t just say these things to me—I’m your sister, for god’s sake—you shouldn’t even be thinking about me like that!”

She dropped down beside the small pile that her clothes made on the floor. I licked my fingers and made sure that she was wet—the act that I was making her perform must have been the most disgusting thing she could think of, because she was practically dripping. I slowly slid into her—she felt so tight and slick, and we simultaneously moaned in pleasure.

As I slowly began thrusting back and forth, she continued her tirade.

“I don’t know what’s suddenly come over you, but seriously, Master, it’s got to stop! If this is some kind of twisted joke, I can tell you—it’s not funny! You can’t just say these—oh, yes...you can’t just say these things to me!”

“I want you to cum when I do,” I grunted. She twisted her body around to look at me—I could have shut her up at any time, but for some reason I was enjoying her verbal denial of what was happening. It added to the taboo nature for me, and I knew that my orgasm wasn’t far off.

“Like that! That’s...it’s just scary, Master! One minute you’re my normal brother, the next minute you’re...oh...you’re...oh! The next...minute...you’ve...gone...all...WEIRD!”

Even as I filled my sister’s cunt, and she huffed and panted with pleasure, she never stopped talking. When I slipped one of my well-lubricated fingers into her ass, her face didn’t seem to acknowledge what I was doing, but the excited clenching of her pussy showed me how much she was going to enjoy me taking her ass.

This was going to be a fun night.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, I discovered a pattern...if my commands were sexual, Edie obeyed them without question. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get Edie to take over my share of the chores, or to convince one of her friends to come and spend time alone with me in my room. If it didn’t involve something perverted, one (or both) of us getting off...no dice.

I could still erase 10 minutes of memories from her mind, and as I played around with her limits, I kept my hand close to the button that would do so, but after the first few weeks I loosened up a little.

As long as my commands were sexual, Edie was my unaware, ever-obedient little slut. There was nothing she wouldn’t do—I’d taken every one of her holes, many times, and coated her tits with more than a few loads of my cum. She dressed like a slut around the house, and as soon as we were alone together, would be on my lap, allowing me to force my tongue down her throat, or feel and make sure that she’d shaved her pussy, or strip for me, slowly running her hands over skin as I watched...

She complained all the while, of course. Her conscious mind was never aware of my actions (or hers), just my requests and commands. I don’t know why she never did anything about it; perhaps she just accepted that her brother was a perv, and that as long as it stopped at words, it wasn’t worth doing anything about.

“Oh god, what is wrong with you? Why did I have to be given such a pervert for a brother? Ugh.” Edie grumbled, pulling on her nipples and moving into position to suck on my balls while I went over my code one more time. I was sure that there was something in my program that would tell me why she’d only respond to my sexual commands.

Until I could fix it, the only way I could make money from the second machine would be by whoring out my sister...and though I won’t deny that I considered it, I’m not that bad. Even I have limits.

“Talk to me about what you thought about the last time you masturbated,” I said idly while I checked the parameters of my machines. The sound of her elaborate fantasies involving some guy at school were a much better background noise than abuse and protestations, even if it was muffled by my testicles half the time.

After coating my sister’s face with cum a few minutes later and telling her not to wipe it off until Mom got home, I picked up my device and sighed. My dreams were starting to fade away—unlimited wealth, taking over the world...all I could use it to do was get off in (and on) my sister.

As she marched out of the room, dressed in the bra and short skirt that I’d picked out for her that morning, the sight made me smile.

It wasn’t what I’d wanted...but it was hard to complain, when your balls had just been emptied. Besides, I’d just come up with a way that we could make some money...

“Hold up, Edie!” I called out after her. “Do you still have that digital camera Mom got you for Christmas?”


	Chapter 2

I smiled as I checked my PayPal account. The money was trickling in, slowly but surely.

The first machine I’d invented had given me the ability to erase the last ten minutes from someone’s memory, provided I had access to their unique brainwave pattern. All I needed to do was project the exact opposite impulses that their hippocampus emitted, and bam—their most recent thoughts would never make it to long-term memory.

So far I’d only used it on my sister Edie and myself, but I was reasonably sure that after just a few minutes of scanning, it could be configured to work on anyone.

The second machine, that was the one that I was truly proud of.

It was a simple design—like the memory eraser, it projected impulses, but with a different aim. Instead of cancelling brainwaves out, it amplified them, creating such a strong emotional response that they didn’t notice my orders seeping into their brain.

I’d used it on my sister—by amplifying her reaction whenever I suggested something sexual, she got angry and offended…and didn’t notice her own body obeying my every command.

The problem was, it only worked when I suggested something sexual. I’d tried to make her do housework, but it would only work as part of a sexual roleplay.

I turned from my computer, to find Edie picking up the last of my laundry, dressed in a French maid outfit so short that she didn’t even need to bend over to show off that beautiful ass of hers.

“Will zere be anythink elze?” she asked, her sultry voice contrasting beautifully with the angry glare that she was giving me.

At that moment, Edie had no idea that she was pretending to be a French maid. She remembered me asking her to dress up in the sexy costume and clean my room, but she had no idea that she’d actually done it.

“I think there’s something else that needs cleaning,” I said lewdly as I spread my legs. As per her training, her eyes lit up in excitement as she got down on her knees, but as soon as the specific instruction (“Look excited whenever I proposition you”) was obeyed, her face went back to the angry glare, and it was that fury that I saw as I fucked her face.

I’d long since stopped feeling guilty…as far as Edie was concerned, I was just a pervert who asked her to do gross and sadistic things, all the time. She had no idea that she was actually sucking my cock.

Part of me wondered what she _did_ think was happening, but I’m not one to mess with a good thing. I came into her mouth, had her “clean her master”, and sent her on her way. She had an hour to get my washing done before Mom got home, and I certainly didn’t want to risk Mom catching my sister with her panties off.

Turning back to the computer, I set the first few thousand dollars to transfer into my bank account, and opened up my program.

Somewhere in here was the reason that Edie would only obey my sexual commands. I had to find it.

Not, I should add, that I was complaining—if I had to only pick one kind of command to be obeyed, sexual would be my first, second, third and fourth choice…but the secret to making a thousand times more money than my sister’s porn site could ever bring in was in the code somewhere, and I was determined to find it.

* * *

Two hours later, I sat back, exhausted. Edie had changed back into her “around the house” clothes (which, ever since I’d first influenced her, was a short skirt and midriff-baring top), Mom had gotten home, and I was no closer to a solution. As much as I hated to, I had to admit—it was time to stop looking at the code and start experimenting instead. It was the only way I was going to work out what had happened.

“Edie,” I said to my sister after Mom had left the house, the second machine in my hand. “I want you to crawl on hands and knees to my bedroom, then kneel in front of me, ready to serve my cock.”

I could have just asked her to come into my room. And, once upon a time, she would have done so. But after weeks of crude and (to her) inexplicable commands, endlessly unanswered, she sullenly ignored me whenever possible. And, as mentioned, the second machine only worked if the commands were sexual.

Striding from the room, I could hear her loudly complaining about my language, and a glance over my shoulder confirmed that she was obeying my commands. Her top was already off, and in a few seconds I knew that her skirt would join it.

A few minutes later, she crawled into the room. She almost looked surprised upon seeing me, but just rolled her eyes and tried to pretend I wasn’t there, even as she knelt before me.

Leaning forward, I hefted one of her heavy breasts.

“Piss off,” she snapped, slapping my hand away. I’d considered adding a command that any part of her was mine to touch as I wished, but I’d decided against it. After a few seconds pause, she unwittingly (and unwillingly) added “…master.”

“What,” I asked nonchalantly, “are you doing?”

She rolled her eyes and again tried to ignore me, but I grabbed her face and turned it towards mine. I wanted to know what was running through her head as she unknowingly obeyed my orders—it could be the key to understanding why she would only obey me when my demands were sexual in nature.

“Nothing, master” she spat. “I’m just trying to have a night off, but my _asshole_ brother won’t leave me alone.”

My hand hovered over my mind-erasing machine: I knew that there was a chance that my next few questions would undo all of my hard work—that confronting her complete lack of self-awareness would erase my commands—and as much as I wanted to know what was going on, I certainly didn’t want to give up my cum-dumpster sister in the process.

I’d disabled the second machine—this conversation was happening without me controlling her brainwaves. I could have told her to suck my cock and she’d have just glared at me. This was just her and me, no mind control involved.

“Why are you naked?” I asked, and she again rolled her eyes. “Edie, tell me that, and I’ll leave you alone for a month.”

I had no intention of leaving her alone, but it succeeded in catching her attention. She glanced down at herself, and a confused look came upon her face.

“I…” she answered, her brow furrowed. “I…”

I immediately wished that I’d hooked her up to my brainwave-reader before asking her the question, but before I could work out how to make “put this on your head” a sexual command, she blinked, and her eyes went blank.

“Edie?” I asked, and she looked at me, irritated, as if noticing me in the room for the first time.

“What?”

* * *

After hooking her up to the reader, I repeated the experiment several times. It was almost beautiful to watch, like a dance—when I asked her to acknowledge what she was doing, her brainwaves spiked, peaked, and then flatlined. It was like the brain simply couldn’t accept the reality of what it was doing, and so it completely rejected it.

I was utterly fascinated, and more curious than I’d ever been in my life.

“Edie,” I asked, for the fifth time, “what are you wearing right now?”

“I…the…”

As she looked down at herself, I glanced over at the reader. Subtle variations in the question didn’t affect the outcome. Spike, peak, flatline. I turned back to my sister, who was glaring at me as if I’d never spoken.

“Edie,” I asked, “touch your bra.”

Her hand came into contact with her breast, and without even looking at her monitor, I could tell exactly the same pattern had occurred. Her face looked bewildered, then worried, then…nothing.

“Edie,” I said, a thought appearing in my head, “turn me on by describing what you’re wearing.”

“I’m naked, master.”

Curious.

“What?” I said. “Say that again…”

Nothing. Just silence.

“…it’ll get me hard if you repeat yourself,” I added.

“I’m naked, master…” she said in her sexiest, sultriest voice.

Curiouser and curiouser.

I got her to repeat it four more times before I realized that even though the portable second machine wasn’t operating, the reader that she wore on her head was the original—the machine that had made her obey my commands in the first place. When it was turned off, she just got confused, fearful and then blanked, no matter how I ordered her to behave…but when it was on, asking her to tell me (in a sexual manner) what she was wearing worked just like any other sexual order. That is to say, she obeyed it without question.

It didn’t quite make sense to me yet, but I had a plan:

I wanted to see how hard I could push it.

* * *

“How was school?” I asked my sister almost as soon as she got through the door. She rolled her eyes, removed her panties (a left-over command from when I first began to control her) and started to head upstairs.

“Wait!” I called after her, and when she didn’t respond, started to follow her upstairs. “Tell me, sis, in as much sexual detail as you can…how was school?”

Nothing. Exactly as I’d expected. I flicked the switch of the machine in my pocket, and tried it one more time.

“Edie,” I said slowly, “I want to fuck your bare little cunt. And while I do, I want you to tell me about all the filthy escapades you got up to at school today.”

“Oh, for fuck’s…really, master?” she asked, too exhausted to even be angry. But even as she shot daggers at me with her eyes, she bent herself over the couch, reached behind herself to lift up her skirt, and slowly guided my cock into her wet little pussy.

As I slid inside her for the third time that day (it had been a big morning) and admired the slickness of her wet cunt, she began to speak…

“What do you want to know, master? You really are a sick little perv, y’know that? It was just an ordinary day at school…”

* * *

As Edie had entered the school grounds that morning, she hadn’t questioned the urge that came upon her each and every morning. She had just mindlessly obeyed her legs as they took her to the girl’s bathroom, where she pulled some panties out of her bag, and slid them on. She washed her hands, and prepared for her first day of school.

Edie’s conscious mind wasn’t aware of a lot of what her body was doing that day. She knew, of course, that she was wearing a short skirt—what she didn’t know was that every time she saw a boy, she’d turn away from him and find some reason to bend over, attracting his attention immediately. She was conscious that she was noticing the number of males at her school more than usual—what she didn’t realize was that she was subconsciously weighing them up, checking them out, and trying to work out which of them she found most attractive.

Whenever a teacher was around, she was a perfect little angel…but as soon as the teachers were out of sight, her hands found themselves playing with the hem of her skirt. Only once throughout the whole day did Edie notice what she were doing, and even then she dismissed it as nerves—probably caused by her brother’s weird behaviour. Even then, she hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t just touching the skirt, she was making eye contact with boys that she liked, spreading her legs, and then flashing them whenever they glanced in her direction.

Edie was responsible for a room full of hard-ons, and she hadn’t even noticed.

During her lunch-break, she’d noticed herself walking up to the jock’s table, making an excuse to chat to the quarterback of the football team. Edie wasn’t blind—she knew that she was gorgeous, and on some level she was even aware that her change in wardrobe recently had resulted in a lot more male attention than usual, especially from the meatheads who passed every class purely because of their skill on the field.

A small part of Edie noticed herself talking to the quarterback, but the specifics of what she was saying were lost to her. She simply tuned out for about a quarter of an hour, and when she next knew what was happening, she was on her knees, her clothes discarded, and the quarterback’s cock pistoning in and out of her mouth.

_That’s odd,_ she briefly mused. _It doesn’t taste at all like my brother’s…_

The thought stuck in her head for a few seconds, but since it didn’t make any sense to her at all, was summarily dismissed, and she focussed on the task ahead of her. She was sucking…no, that didn’t sound right. She was fellating…no, that didn’t make sense either. She was doing _something_ , that was for sure. But who with?

The quarterback. That, she could confirm. She was doing something with the quarterback. But rather than put too much brainpower toward the thought of what she was doing, she focussed on the other half of the sentence:

The quarterback. What was his _name_? She’d heard it before, she was sure of that. They’d met a few times, and it was the kind of thing that she should probably know, if she was on her knees…no…if she was in front of him…no…

Rather than let her mind dwell, Edie spent the next few minutes trying to remember the quarterback’s name. She swallowed his cum, mentally appraised his performance, and decided that he was worthwhile. As she put her hands on the school-desk of the empty classroom they’d snuck into and spread her legs, she avoided comparing the feel of his cock sliding inside her with the girth of her brother’s, and continued to try to remember his name.

Chuck? Brad? Garth? It was one syllable, she knew that—just like the “Oh!”s that were emitting from her mouth as he fuc…as he made lo…as the two of them hung out.

Hung. He _was_ rather well-hunt. Not huge, but well-proportioned to his body. She was enjoying feeling the size of his member as he…stood behind her. Thrusting forward, over and over again.

For some reason.

George! That was it. As George bellowed and deposited a load into Edie’s bare cunt, she congratulated herself for remembering his name. It was a pity that she’d already cum, else she could have cried it out while he penet…while they stood in the empty classroom.

Ah well, she could always do it next time.

Planting a long, slow, sexy kiss on George’s mouth and keeping eye contact as she slowly got dressed, Edie wondered if she was going to be late for her next class. She’d really spaced out for a few minutes there…it was probably stress, she told herself.

It was odd. Stress didn’t normally make her so horny.

* * *

It was all I could do not to cackle with joy. I’m not a cruel man—I’d only told Edie to get involved in sex that she’d enjoy, and it seemed that as much as she despised him as a person, something about George really pushed her buttons. As she’d been slowly and delightfully telling me every wicked detail of her encounter with the quarterback, I’d cum inside her, and I was already hard again. The level of control I had over my sister was unbelievable…

I flipped her over, pushed her back on the couch, and quickly checked the clock. We had half an hour before Mom came home—that would easily be enough to have my sister at least once more, maybe even twice. I don’t know why the thought of my sister mindlessly fucking a random guy at school turned me on so much…I’ve never been the jealous type, which helped.

It was two things, I pondered, as I reached around and started playing with my sister’s rosebud of an asshole. She moaned with pleasure, exactly as I’d programmed her to—I’d told her, once, that her ass was just as sensitive as her clit. I enjoyed watching her bliss out whenever I fucked her from behind, and even playing with it while I fucked her slimy pussy was a sight to behold.

The first thing that turned me on was the complete lack of awareness—though she’d given me every juicy detail, I was willing to be that she had no idea what she was doing, no idea that there were—even now—probably rumours of her sluttiness circulating her school. I mentally noted the potential for additional revenue, if word got out about her porn site.

But, I reflected as I felt Edie’s pussy clench around mine, in her fourth orgasm of our fuck, what I loved about it even more than that was her total lack of limits. I could command her to fuck the whole football team, and she wouldn’t hesitate. I could make her seduce every teacher in the school, and the janitors as well…and she wouldn’t even think twice about it.

Hell, I could film it. It could be a hell of a revenue source…

For the most part, Edie was silent as we fucked these days—she wanted to be anywhere except for in the room with me, and so she silently allowed me to unload in her pussy, while waves of pleasure wracked her body. As far as she knew, we were probably just sitting silently on the couch—she had no idea that her body was my puppet, to command however I pleased. I laughed as I came, filling my sister with my seed.

I wasn’t any closer to finding out why she only obeyed orders of a sexual nature, but her body was mine to do whatever I liked with…and I wasn’t worried. After all, I had the rest of our lives to figure it out, and Edie would be more than happy to entertain me as I did….


End file.
