15 comments/ 86413 views/ 33 favorites The Whisperer Ch. 01 By: iglootroll Where to begin. My name is Mark Walters. I am eighteen and for as long as I can remember, I have lusted after my 22 year-old cousin Amanda. As I'm writing this I picture her light blue eyes and her plump, curvaceous body. And those boobs, oh those big boobs, I would maul them to bits, along with her big bubble butt that jiggled entrancingly whenever I caught her in her swimsuit, or those skintight pants she sometimes wears. But what I really wanted most, was to fuck her big round ass. Today, my parents are taking me to my cousins' house for our monthly visit. It was hot outside, so I fully expected to see Amanda in less-than-formal attire. I practically blew my load earlier from sheer anticipation. When we arrived, my aunt Sarah greeted me with a choking hug, mashing her gargantuan breasts against me. "Hey, Mark! Wow, you've grown tall!" She patted me on the shoulder. I wish I could say I agreed with her. I was one of the shorter kids in my class, falling just short of average height for high school seniors. This lead to a lot of bullying, which, in turn lead to my lack of popularity with the girls in my school. "Well, why don't you go use the pool and your mom and dad and I will be out in a few minutes. Don't forget to say hi to Amanda when you get there!" I sighed inwardly. As if I'd forget the object of my desire, so close to me yet so far away. If only there were a way to convince Amanda that our family bond didn't matter. But I would never be able to do that. With Amanda's great looks and amazing body came this oppressive bitchy attitude. When I was younger, she made it a point to boss me around and make me do all her chores whenever she had to babysit me, and if I snapped back at her she would make up whatever sad story she wanted to my parents, and I'd end up grounded for a month. I slowly walked outside, careful to hide any semblance of the erection that slowly formed beneath my bathing suit. I cleared the screen door to the pool yard and there she was. Amanda. In all her voluptuous, spectacular glory, lying delicately on one of the pool chairs. I approached her slowly and sat down next to her, casually observing her, hoping she didn't realize I was there. "What're you staring at, you little fucking pervert?" Amanda spoke softly and sneered cruelly. "How does it feel to look at something you're never gonna get? Keep playing with that little dick of yours, 'cause no girl's ever gonna wanna be with a loser like you." Anger roared within me at this point, but I held it in. I wouldn't give her the outburst she wanted. I looked at her and said, "Thanks!" The bitch stood up and sauntered off, probably going to her room. I savored the moment as her bikini bottom was sucked deep between those big, jiggling asscheeks as she made her way inside the house. The rest of the day was wholly unremarkable for summer standards. I took a few dips in the pool and helped my Aunt Sarah barbeque some hamburgers and hotdogs. My parents, Aunt Sarah and I were sitting, eating at the table, discussing random family concerns, when Aunt Sarah noted Amanda's absence from the table. Aunt Sarah looked at me and said, "Marky, why don't you be a dear and get Amanda down here to spend some time with us. We only get to do this once a month!" God I hated it when she called me Marky. It made me feel like a pathetic house pet. "Sure!" I replied, and went up the wooden stairs to Amanda's room. I opened the solid, dark door to her room and gazed inside. The bitch was wrapped up under her comforter sleeping peacefully in the dim evening glow seeping in through the open windows. I was about to go wake her up, when my anger resurfaced. I would give her my outburst while she slept, and although she wouldn't hear it, it would still make me feel better. I knelt down next to her head and whispered in her ear, "You are a fucking bitch. I'm nice enough to get as many girls as I want-". Just then, Amanda began to stir. Frightened that she would wake up and see me looking at her, I shook her in her bed and told her to wake up. Oddly, Amanda didn't yell at me. She simply nodded as if contemplating something, "Okay. Tell my mom I'll be right down." A few minutes later, the bitch made her way to the table. "Took your friggin' time," I mumbled. "Mark, that's enough!" my Dad declared. Amanda shook her head, "No, he's right. I'm a fucking bitch. He's probably nice enough to get any girl he wants." The fuck? I just stared at her. Nobody spoke. My mom, the comedian at the table said, "Well, Amanda, you're not a bitch, but you can definitely bitch." All of us laughed, except Amanda, who was uncharacteristically calm throughout the remainder of the evening. On the way home, I kept thinking back on what I whispered to Amanda and her apparent response, and my mind was teeming with questions. Had I controlled her somehow? Could I make people do or say things by whispering to them while they were asleep? Did I have to whisper? Too many baseless questions for one night and I was tired. I would test my theories tomorrow. For now I was content with a long sleep filled with dazzling new dreams just ready to brighten my evening. But I didn't dream, and it felt like only a few seconds passed before I woke up the next morning. I woke to the sound of birds chirping through the clamor of distant lawnmowers battling endlessly against nature for the control of their yards. I groaned as I hoisted myself off my bed and made my way downstairs. I called for my parents. No answer. The house was empty. Mom and Dad must've already gone to work. A slow movement registered in my peripheral vision and I looked out the window. There she was. Mrs. Heather Richardson. Normally, I wouldn't find pregnant women attractive, but Heather was a vision. Pure blonde hair cascaded down past her chubby facial cheeks and her deep blue eyes, resting calmly on her shoulders. Her plump, curvy ass fit nicely those sweatpants she always wears when she's walking past my house on a weekday morning. What really made her a vision though, were her enormous tits. They had to be at least EE cup. I loved watching her tits sway and jiggle when she walked. A few times, she caught me staring at her, and gave me angry looks every time she did, but if I was going to test out my new theoretical powers on someone, I would love to test them out on her. And I had all fucking day. I put on some clothes and started following Heather's usual route throughout the neighborhood. I considered dosing her with sleeping pills, but I didn't want to risk harming her baby, so I dropped the idea. I would memorize her schedule and figure out when and where she slept, and when she was alone. I jogged along her route until I caught sight of Heather strolling into her driveway and entering her back yard. Quietly, I followed her and watched her sit on a lawn chair and close her eyes. A voice in my head told me I should wait, but I stood up and walked toward Heather's sleeping body. Then I stepped on a twig. A low snap sounded throughout the yard. Heather sat up and yelled, "Who's there?" I quickly crouched behind her back porch. I heard her stand up and start walking, "Hello?" I placed my hands over my eyes and prayed for a miracle. As if it were a monumental effort by the universe, a large deer galloped through Mrs. Richardson's yard and hopped over the fence on the other side. Satisfied, Heather returned to her lawn chair and was soon fast asleep. I waited a few minutes this time and quietly walked over to Heather's sleeping form and knelt so my mount was mere inches from her right ear. "Heather," I whispered, "when you wake up, you will find the boy calling to you extremely attractive. You cannot resist doing anything and everything to pleasure him, including all forms of sex. You will never find anyone else attractive." I thought I was going a little far with that last command, but I wanted to see how far I could take my newfound gift. I calmly exited the yard and began calling to Heather, "Hello, is this the Richardson residence? Hello?" I heard her groan as she woke up and walked towards me. When she finally came into view, I made a monumental effort not to stare at her tits, and kept my gaze at her blue housewife's eyes. I asked her again "Is this the Richardson residence?" She batted her eyes and said, "Sure, but you can call me Heather," she moaned, "Oh, you can call me whatever you want. I feel like I just want to make you happy." Holy fuck, was it this easy? I was struck by the sheer surrealism of the moment and I stammered, "U-um, what e-exactly would you be willing to do to make me happy?" Heather rocked her head back and lightly rubbed her massive boobs. "Mmmm... Anything..." She brought her left hand to her mouth and began sucking her middle finger, making obscene slurping noises. I swear to god my erection was so sudden it tore a fucking hole in my shorts. "Take off your shirt!" I ordered, suddenly confident in my control over Mrs. Richardson, err... Heather. "Mmmm," Heather moaned and pulled her light pink blouse off; revealing her enlarged, pregnant belly and her enormous breast. Light pink areolas stared obediently outward at me. It was right then that I realized I could have this woman as my sex slave if I wanted. The thought of that sent a shiver down my spine. "Get down on your knees," I commanded, "take out my cock." Without hesitation, the busty stuck-up pregnant suburban wife got down on her knees and unbuttoned my pants, sliding them down with great ease. She reached into my boxers and pulled out my fat dick and her crystal eyes which had never so much as given me a second glance now begged for my next command. "Lick it," I whispered, almost imperceptibly, "worship my dick." And she did. Heather moaned obediently and stuck her pink tongue to graze the tip of my cockhead. "Look at me while you lick it." Heather Richardson tilted her head upward to look up at me as she traced her tongue down the shaft of my cock and settled at my balls, taking turns licking each testicle. "Suck them. Keep my balls warm in your mouth. Your mouth was made to service my cock. Don't stop until I tell you to." "Mmmm... Serve. Cock. Oh...." Heather moaned through my testicles as her body convulsed in orgasm. "Oh Heather," I mocked, "did you just orgasm from sucking my balls in your fat bitching mouth?" Heather nodded profusely, answering with various slurps and moans. I realized I hadn't told her to stop sucking my balls yet. "You can stop sucking my balls now," I told her. She hesitantly dislodged her mouth from my balls with an audible pop and looked at me with a hint of disappointment gleaming in her hopeless eyes. Standing there, in this rich housewife's backyard, I decided to find out just how hopeless she was. "If I never told you to stop sucking my ballsack would you have kept your mouth there all day?" Heather looked up at me again, "I would keep your balls in my fat bitch mouth until the end of time." "Even if it meant death by dehydration and starvation?" I pushed. "I would die of dehydration and starvation before I would even think about letting those balls out of my mouth without your say-so. As for the dehydration, however, I could always drink your cum and pee if you allowed it," Heather smiled proudly, as if she had reached the epitome of her deepest, darkest desires, only I had made sure those desires included only her need to service me. I smiled inwardly at the woman who never so much as said "hi" or "hello" to me as we walked past one another on a summer weekday. Oh, how things had changed. "Do you know what that makes you, Heather, that you're willing to obey any of my commands, regardless of the consequences?" "No," she answered, disappointed that she was unable to provide me with an answer. "That makes you my obedient slave, Heather." "I am your slave." "And what does that make me, Heather?" "You are my owner, sir. My master." "That's right," I rewarded her with a squeeze of her fantastic breasts, "and from now on you'll call me Master or sir, but only when we're alone. You are not, under any circumstance except for under my permission, to tell anyone that you are my slave, but you will always know deep down that you are mine, and in every waking moment of your life you will need and want nothing more than to obey my every wish and command." "Yes, Master!" she cheered, "My mind, body, and soul all belong to you. I just love this feeling of you owning all of me! Tame me, Master, please, I'm begging you, let me live as your doormat, your footrest, your pillow, your maid, your cook, your slut, your pet, your toy, your pregnant whore, your fuckslave. I'll be and do anything for you!" Heather moaned and slid her right hand into her pants and began to rub her pussy. She brought her hand out of her wet pants and started finger-fucking her mouth, gagging as she sucked her pussy juices down her obedient throat. I marveled at how a few simple words to her had sent her down her delicious road to sexual slavery. I decided it was time to make her truly mine. "Stand up, bitch," I ordered savoring the ferocity of which she quickly obeyed my command, "take those fucking pants and panties off, bend over the nearest pool chair, and stick your ass in the air. Now!" "Yes, Master!" Heather yelped as she turned and struggled to get her pants off at speeds I had previously thought beyond human ability. I savored the moment as Heather pulled her pulled her panties down and stepped out of her clothes, and bent over. Her large bubble butt jiggled as she swayed back and forth, enticing me to take what was mine. I walked up behind her and rubbed my cock on her bare pussy and rubbed the tiny nub of her asshole with my thumb. I heard her moan and clench that back hole around my finger, sucking it inside her bowels. Maybe next time I'd make her beg me to fuck her up the ass make her my anal whore. I continued to rub my dick on the outside of her pussy, savoring every moan of frustration that escaped from Heather's lips. "Beg for it, slave!" I commanded. "Please Master, Oh! Pleaaase. Fuck my tight pregnant pussy. Make me yours. Shove that fat dick all the way in my unworthy cunt, please! Cum inside my pussy and mark it as your territory!" I shoved my dick inside her pussy, watching with delight as her fat asscheeks jiggled with every thrust inside her womanhood. For the next hour I kept fucking her, pulling out at regular intervals just so I could hear the bitch beg for it again. By the time her husband came back to the house, I had already came inside her delicious tight pussy and had her kneel at my feet and kiss my shoes, worshiping me as her lover, her owner, her controller, her master. I walked home, savoring the taste of my the best day of my life. I had a slave at my beck and call, who I would make sure would soon live with me full-time, but there was still something missing. Somewhere beyond the dark scope of my home town, my delicious cousin Amanda lay sleeping. The Whisperer Ch. 02 I woke up the next day a satisfied man. I had controlled and enslaved my busty housewife neighbor and my state of mind had never been better. The only thing that bothered me was how utterly simple and easy it was. When I was a younger, my now deceased grandfather told me that if something was too good to be true, that meant that it probably was. Well, I had the whole day and my parents were out, as usual, so I dialed my slave Heather's cell phone. She picked up on the third ring, "Hello?" "Heather, this is your Master speaking," I commanded, "Are you alone?" "W-what? Who is this? What the hell are you talking about?! Is this some sort of prank?" My heart sank and my brain span into panic mode. Did my powers wear off after a certain amount of time? Had I used my powers correctly, whatever correctly may mean? Fuck. "Um, err... yeah this was a prank," and I hung up, hoping she didn't remember enough about last night to know what I had done to her. Shit. I dropped my phone on the floor and sat down on a wooden kitchen chair, the pit in my stomach exploding into a well of frustration. Just then, I heard the front door open. "Mark? I'm home," My mother's voice, "Mark?" "I'm here, Mom." I sat up and picked up my phone, hoping she wouldn't notice my frustration. She came into the kitchen, "Hey Mark. Oh, you look awful. What happened?" That was the thing about Mom. She was the only person in this insane fucking world who ever cared about me. My father wasn't home enough to care. Judging from how long he was absent on business, I wouldn't be surprised he was cheating on Mom, the bastard. "Nothing happened, Mom. I'm just not feeling well today. I think I might take a nap." "Okay, honey. I think I might take nap too. Work for the day got cancelled. We're just not busy anymore like we used to be." I nodded in sympathy and walked to my room, easily collapsing on my familiar bed. I instantly fell asleep. I woke to a house of silence. Not a single bird chirped outside and the sky was steel gray with rainclouds. I decided to go downstairs and make something to eat when I passed my parents' room to find my mother fast asleep under the covers. She looked so beautiful and pure. I wished I could ask her for advice about Heather, because Mom always knew what to say to me to make me feel better, but she would hate me if I told her about how badly I had hurt another person, and she would never understand why I felt justified in doing it either. But there was also the matter of my powers. I decided I would try to ask her in her sleep. Maybe I could converse with people in their sleep. I quietly crept into the room and knelt by my mother's perfect sleeping form and pressed my lips to her delicate ear, whispering. "Hey, Mom." "Hi, honey," she spoke in monotone, and was still, as if she were a corpse speaking from an ancient grave. "I have a problem that I need you to help me with, Mom. Do you think you could help me?" "Yes, Mark. Mommy's here to help you. What's the problem?" "Mom, I'm having trouble telling you this." "Why?" She almost sounded hurt. "I'm afraid of what you'll say to me. I'm afraid you'll hate me. Please promise not to hate me." "I promise not to hate you, Mark," and she was silent. I then felt something strange in my head. Somehow I knew that she wouldn't hate me for what I was about to say. "I have powers of suggestion. I forced a married woman to be my slave, but I made her like it. I never told her to stop being my slave, and now she has. What do I do?" "It sounds like you just told her what to do when you forced her to be a slave. Married women can be very committed to their husbands. Maybe instead of telling her what to do, you need to change how she thinks as a person. You might not be able to do that if she loves her husband so much, but I think you ought to try. I believe that if you tried to enslave this woman, you would not have done it if she were nice to you all the time. You have a gift, Mark; I know you can sense people who are cruel and cold in this world. You've always had that instinct. I don't approve of what you're doing, Mark, but I still love you more than anything, and I will never stop helping you." "Thanks Mom. I love you too." I whispered, and kissed her on the cheek, fighting back the tears that bashed at edge of my eyes. I stood up and tucked Mom under the covers. A part of me wanted to go further and see what I could make Mom do, but I crushed that part of me under my boot. I could never hurt her like that. I would never be able to justify that. I wanted her, but I would never force her to want me. I left a note for Mom and walked away from the house, proud that I still had someone who loved me, but for now, I had a job to do, specifically Heather. I swore that she would be mine before the night was over I stealthily crept toward the Richardson residence, careful to approach the house from the side that was not illuminated. I leaned up against the cold, fabricated wood side of the house and peered in the kitchen window. Mrs. Richardson, in all her busty glory sat on one end of the table, and another man, presumably her husband sat on the other. In the middle sat a child of about eight years of age. The boy's hair was a shade of blonde, just like his mother's. I didn't know she had another child. I was about to leave and return when the house was emptier when the mother, Heather, gestured to the child's elbows which jutted out onto the table. The boy looked panicked, and quickly retracted his elbows under the table, but it was too late. The father got up from his seat and watched while Heather slapped the child across the face, again and again. She stopped, gesturing with her index finger again, and sat her fat ass back down. There was no more negotiation at this point. Heather was going to be mine. Child abusers deserve the worst forms of torture, and God knows what that bitch had put her son through. But I would make sure Heather learned what it meant to be truly beaten into submission. The father deserved a similar fate, but I decided I would change him and mold him into a better father for his son. But Heather was not going to stay -- the father would remarry soon after Heather gave birth to her newest child, and she would be mine to abuse until I decided otherwise. Tonight, my monster was going to be let out of its cage, and I don't just mean the one beneath my skin. I waited outside until the lights were out, and I silently tested the front door. Locked. Undeterred, I navigated the yard until I reached the backyard, the sight of so many wonderful things that happened yesterday. I couldn't wait to have that woman at my beck and call again. But I had to focus on the main issue here of getting her under control, and the even greater issue of Heather's abuse of her son, and his father's inaction. I silently tried the back door and found it unlocked. I prayed the Richardson family did not have a dog and stepped inside house. The air inside the house was cool and dark, filtered continuously through a top-of-the-line air conditioning system. I walked through the hallway and looked into the living room, which was filled with televisions, couches, computers and high-tech sound systems. Not too shabby. I was about to head upstairs when I heard a snore coming from the living room. I moved back into the room and looked again. I saw a dark, sleeping form curled up on one of the couches. I approached the figure and easily recognized him. It was the husband, the poor fellow. His bitch of a wife might not be abusing just her child after all. I leaned over the emasculated man and began to whisper once more. "Hello Mr. Richardson." "Hello," he grumbled. "Why do you let your wife abuse your son?" "I can't do anything about it. She said she'd divorce me if I told anyone and make it seem like I was the child abuser. I didn't want to risk that. Not with my son at stake." "It seems your son is at stake right now, Mr. Richardson. You have a chance to show him that you care, that you love him, and that you aren't going to abandon him." "I'm not abandoning him! I'm-" "You're what?" I interrupted, straining the sound level of my whisper, "Your son only sees you as someone who does nothing, who makes excuses to avoid pain. You're worse than your wife because you let it happen." "You're right," he mumbled, deep in his sleep. "I abandoned my son. How did I let it come to this?" "You can still change things," I whispered, "It's not too late for you to do the right thing for you and your son." The husband began snoring again, whispering, "I'm going to change things" every few seconds or so. That must be what it's like to change a person's thought. I wondered if it would be possible to change something deeper, to mold a more significant part of a person's character. I wonder if Heather was even truly awake when I commanded her. Subconscious actions must be easy to manipulate, because of how simply I had controlled Heather the day before. Conscious actions and thoughts, however, even the simple thoughts, required immense manipulation on my part, but I believed that Mr. Richardson had got the message. I made my way upstairs, where my final chore remained. I came upon the first bedroom and peered inside. There she was. Sleeping. I could just barely perceive the outline of the sheets on her massive breasts. My member was instantly hard and throbbing as I crept into the room and knelt over Heather, my lips nearly touching her ear. "Why do you abuse your son, Heather?" I whispered. "Because it's fun," she giggled in her sleep. Rage exploded throughout my body. I took a few seconds aside to calm down before continuing. "Why do you think it's fun," I wondered. "Just seeing him in pain like that, that I have control over his every action, is so much fun." Maybe we weren't so different after all. "How would you like to be made into a slave, Heather? To be abused like that every day?" "Of course not. I don't like feeling pain." I was getting nowhere. "Heather. Imagine you are floating above a room." "I am floating in a room," she mumbled, this time in monotone. "Below you is a woman, she is being forced to serve a person that you don't recognize. How do you feel when you see the woman obeying and serving?" "I feel pleasure. Nothing turns me on more than subservience." Maybe I could use that to my advantage. "Look closer at the woman. Imagine her face. What does she look like?" "I don't know," she mumbled, "Can you describe her for me?" "Blonde hair, blue eyes, a little chubby. Big boobs, pregnant." "Wow she looks just like me! Just like me... just like me..." I think I stuck a nerve. "Just like me..." she kept muttering, and her body began to convulse mildly. "And do you wonder who the person standing above her is?" I whispered. "It's you," she mumbled, helpless, "It's you, it's you, it's you..." "Yes it's me," I told her, "Now take off your sheets and spread for your master." "Yes Master," she whimpered, still asleep as she brushed her comforter off and spread her plump legs. I looked beneath her nightgown and saw she wasn't wearing any panties, the slut. I took off my pants and shoved my dick in Heather's tight warm pussy. I started slowly, easing in and out of her hot cunt as I grabbed her massive breasts. I picked up the pace, moving faster and faster, oblivious to her screams and moans of delight as I hammered her pussy. I enjoyed the way her massive tits jiggled and bounced up and down, mimicking my rhythm as I fucked her. When I felt that I was about to cum, I fucked her even faster and slapped her tits, and she responded with a squeal of sheer wonton delight. After that, I couldn't take it anymore and exploded inside her. I lay down beside her, her pussy still sucking my dick further inside, as if it were reluctant to let me go. I whispered in Heather's ear again, suggesting she'd leave her son alone and come visit my house instead within the next few days for a special discipline of parental "tutoring". As I left, I made sure she replayed my visit within her mind for the rest of the night. Hopefully something would stick and I'd have more to work with on our next encounter. I walked home as I did the day before thinking about my ability to control people. It's ironic that, although I have powers of suggestion over people, I can never have a real genuine relationship with anyone. I am a monster because of the powers I have, but I hope I can at least use it to tame people who abuse others. That is my legacy of which I now whisper to the dark sky above. I arrived home after twelve in the morning to find my Mom passed out on the couch. She'd apparently been watching one of her shows but now an episode of the original Twilight Zone streamed through the television. I walked over to Mom and gently lifted her sleeping form off the couch and proceeded upstairs. I carried Mom into her room and gently lay her down on the bed. I marveled her perfect body for a few moments before gently covering her with her favorite bed sheet. I tucked her in and leaned down to kiss her cheek. But I still had another chore; another mess of a human being to mop up. "Mom," I whispered into her ear. "You've got to take me to go see my cousin Amanda. I really miss her." "Okay honey," she responded, "Anything for my son." I got up and walked back to my room, sliding easily into my bed, and was fast asleep in a night filled with endless dreams of the future. The Whisperer Ch. 03 ***Disclaimer*** All characters and events depicted in this story are pure fiction. Any similarities between characters or places within the story and the actual world are entirely coincidental. Notes: This is the third installment of The Whisperer series, and, as always I hope you enjoy it and welcome your feedback. Thank you! The thick smell of pancakes and bacon wafted in my nostrils as I took another bite of the crisp slab of bacon spread out on my plate before me. Yesterday, I had implanted suggestions into my busty housewife neighbor to stop her from beating her son, and start her down the road to her eventual subjugation as punishment for her abuse of others. I savored the taste of Mom's homemade breakfast and shivered with anticipation for object of my latest chore. My cousin Amanda was one of the most stunning and beautiful women I had ever seen, with nice DD cup tits to accompany her glorious bubble butt, shapely legs, and angelic face. Unfortunately (and possibly fortunate for me), Amanda also happened to have one of the most sadistic personas I had ever sampled. But I could never justify conquering her because of how I felt about her, or how much I wanted her. I needed undeniable proof of her failure as a human being, of her sheer inhumanity, and I intended to find such proof during my visit to her house today. "How do you like your breakfast, Mark?" Mom asked. I looked across the wood kitchen table at my 41 year-old mother, taking in her marvelousness of her figure. Mom had dark red hair which cascaded beautifully onto her shoulders and lively blue eyes which shone brilliantly from her the smooth skin of her face. Sometimes, when she wasn't looking, I let my eyes wander to the curve of her delicate breasts. Although Mom's boobs were sizeable, and certain to make any passing guy do a double take, they were not nearly as big as Heather's or Amanda's tits. But there was something remarkably attractive about that. It made Mom seem more real to me. "It's delicious, Mom. Thanks! Can you pass the syrup?" "Sure, honey." Mom picked up the syrup and leaned over the table, presenting me with view of her generous cleavage. As she continued to lean, the fabric of her tight blue blouse pressed her breasts together, causing some of her breast flesh to burst out of her low-cut neckline. Mom set the syrup down by my plate, but continued to lean for a few more seconds, which felt like an eternity to me. Unfortunately, she retreated and sat back down in her seat, eying me with a curious smile on her cute lips. I muttered a quick thank-you and poured the syrup, embarrassed to glance up at her again. Had she caught me staring down her cleavage? If so, why was she smiling? I didn't want to speculate, so I shut those thoughts out of my head and continued eating. I had a job to do, and I couldn't afford to let my focus gravitate away from my investigation of Amanda. We finished eating, and in return for Mom making a delicious breakfast, I cleaned the dishes and put them away. I followed Mom to her car, gazing at the slow sway of her shapely hips as she walked. She was about to open the door to the driver's seat of her blue sedan when I interrupted, "Hey Mom, you worked all morning making me breakfast. Why don't you let me drive us to Amanda's?" Mom looked back at me and gave me another one of those enigmatic smiles and nodded her acquiescence. She walked to the passenger side of the car and got in. I opened the car door and shut it with an audible thud. When we arrived at Aunt Sarah's, it was still somewhat early in the morning, so I had high hopes that Amanda would still be sleeping. "Hey!" A woman's yell broke the eerie country silence as Mom and I stepped out of the car. I looked toward the house to see my Aunt Sarah jogging toward us with her arms raised in a welcoming gesture. I couldn't help but glance at her gigantic boobs as they bounced and jiggled with her every step. Like Mom, Aunt Sarah also had dark red hair and clear blue eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. Unlike Mom, Aunt Sarah had a curvy, voluptuous body similar to her daughter's. In addition to their anatomical differences, Mom and Aunt Sarah were complete opposites in terms of personality. Mom was quiet and smartly introverted while Aunt Sarah was a loud philandering socialite who bullied my mother when she was young and lived entirely off her ex-husband's grotesquely expensive divorce settlement, child support, and alimony. She would probably never have to work for the rest of her life. I made a note to myself that if I was going to investigate Amanda, I might as well find out if her mother had intentionally ruined another person's life; a notion I found might not be so unlikely. "Hey, Aunt Sarah!" I smiled as she lunged at me to give me a hug. Then I felt something strange, like a tickle or shiver traveling down my spine. I instantly felt a sense of unknown dread as a single word seared itself into my brain: "Guilty!" I retreated from Aunt Sarah's embrace, paying no notice to how her big tits felt against my chest, stumbled, and collapsed onto the pavement of her driveway. "Mark! Are you alright?" It was Mom, kneeling beside me. I rubbed my temples and sat up with a grumble. "It was Aunt Sarah." Mom and Aunt Sarah exchanged looks of "he probably needs to go to a hospital", which motivated me to correct my statement. "She hugged me so hard that my body was so overwhelmed with her affection that my heart burst, thus sending my body whirling toward the pavement." This elicited a laugh from Aunt Sarah, and even though Mom looked very worried, the outer flesh of her lips curled upward into a slight smile, despite her monumental efforts to control herself. They brought me inside the house and patched me up in the house's dark, marble kitchen. As for my injuries, I only suffered a couple of minor scrapes, but Mom insisted making sure every nanometer of exposed flesh was covered with Neosporin, followed routinely by a Hello Kitty Band-Aid. Aunt Sarah looked at Mom and I with a condescending sneer, which grew increasingly condescending when she noticed Mom's selection of Band-Aids from Aunt Sarah's first aid kit. "They're your Band-Aids, bitch!" I wanted to say, but thought better of it. Besides, I fully intended to find out why my brain seemed to think Aunt Sarah was guilty. And if she was, I'd make her mine. "Where's Amanda?" I blurted out, suddenly curious. "She's upstairs sleeping. Lord knows how late the girl was out last night." Aunt Sarah spat out, as if having to take care of a child gave her the right to be miserable. "Why don't you wake her up and see if you can get her downstairs?" She sneered, knowing full well how Amanda normally treated me. I smiled at her invitation and headed upstairs. The entrance to Amanda's room was open, as it was when I woke her before. But had I truly woken her? It was entirely possible that Amanda, like Mrs. Heather Richardson was still asleep when she carried out my suggestions. I silently entered the room and knelt over Amanda's gorgeous sleeping form, pausing to admire her bubbly ass that stuck out over the side of the bed. I moved so my lips closer to her ear, careful not to touch her skin for fear of a "Guilty!" verdict slamming my brain – and me, into Amanda's wooden floor. I whispered to her. "Hello Amanda. Do you know who I am?" "No." "I'm your cousin, Mark." "Hi, Mark," she mumbled, and was silent again. That was probably the nicest thing she ever said to me. "Hi Amanda. I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to answer them honestly. Does that sound okay?" "Okay," she answered. I marveled at how easy her subconscious mind was to control. "Have you done anything bad, Amanda?" "I smoked pot when I was in high school. I cheat on my boyfriend, Pat. I pick on ugly girls in college, just like I did in high school." That last answer elicited a small smile on her lips. Calmly, I pressed further, "Have you ever severely hurt anyone intentionally? Explain." "I told this hot rich guy named Brad that his wife was cheating on him. She wasn't, but I planted evidence in their house one day on my dog walking job. Now they're divorced and the wife got nothing in the settlement because of her 'affair', and now I get to get fucked by Brad whenever I want it. He'll do anything I want if I even hint that he'll get to fuck me." "And what did you feel when you realized you had ruined an innocent woman's life?" "I felt great! It was like I had complete control over her to ruin her life. It felt so good! I need more." That sounded familiar. I thought about using the same approach with Amanda that I tested out on Heather, but I had a better idea. "Amanda, whenever I and only I say the words 'carpe diem', you will feel a surge of this controlling pleasure. However, you will not be able to feel that sort of pleasure from anything else, but I will be able to give it to as much as you want, eliminating the time you spend without feeling that pleasure. Does that sound like a good idea?" Amanda lay still on the bed for a few moments before her body started shivering, as if she were struggling against her desires. Finally, she nodded her ascent with a hopeful "Yes." "Carpe diem," I whispered to her. Suddenly, Amanda's body began shaking and squirming, eliciting moans of pleasure from behind her full pink lips I had so often imagined wrapped around my cock. "But in order for me to do this favor for you, you must promise to abide by certain conditions." Amanda's body shivered again and she answered, "Okay." "Those conditions can entail anything, and you must abide by them even if you are awake. Are you sure you want this?" Another minor convulsion. "Yes." I thought I could probably make her my slave using these conditions, but I didn't want rewrite her entire psyche. I wanted her to know I was going to dominate her in every way, and that there was nothing she could do about it. That would be Amanda's punishment for her blatant maltreatment and domination of other people. "The conditions are as follows – One: you will not attempt to inform anyone about our new contract, or anything that happens between us for that matter unless I tell you to. Two: you will not harm me in any way, or allow anyone to harm me. Three: whenever I and only I say the word 'somnus', you will fall asleep and respond only to the instruction of my voice. You will not disobey me while you are asleep. Four: you will not attempt to hurt yourself in any way. Five: you will not get pleasure from a recording of my voice, or any voice other than mine. Six: the only other time you will feel sexual pleasure is if you and I are sexually intimate. Seven: I reserve the right to change this contract any way I like, and if you agree now, you agree to be bound by anything I might add to it. Failure to obey the contract will result in a permanent lack of pleasure for the rest of your life." I thought I might have been going a little overboard with that last addition, but then I remembered Amanda's confession, about the lives she crippled and destroyed, and lost any sympathy for her. "Do you agree?" My heart jumped as I anxiously awaited her reply. Amanda lay still for a long time. I took the opportunity to marvel her long brown hair that slid gracefully down her barely-clothed back. "I agree," She mouthed, and began convulsing wildly about the bed. I touched her in an effort to calm her down when I felt the searing in my brain once more. This time, however, I was ready and steadied myself against Amanda's bedside table as images of all the people whose live she ruined flashed before my eyes. My head pounded as I struggled to get up. "Mark?" Mom's voice, "Amanda? Are you okay?" I heard her footsteps clash against the soft wood of the stairs as she made her way to the second floor, and to my doom. I struggled to get off the floor, to no avail. Suddenly, a cute voice from the bed sounded throughout the room, "We're okay, Aunt Jessica! Just hanging out. We'll be down in a little bit." "Okay Amanda! Your mom and I are going to the store. We'll be back in a couple of hours." I heard Mom make her way downstairs and I slowly turned to gaze upon the newly-awakened Amanda. She had not bothered to fully clothe herself and blood immediately flowed to my downstairs tenant. Amanda sat on her bed and faced me, her dark brown hair cascading down her shoulders, between which stood her massive breasts, covered only by a thin bra. I marveled at her flat, perfect stomach in the center of which stood a belly button ring, glaring out at me from the deepest, darkest part of its wearer's corrupted soul. Her deep brown eyes took me in as she looked at me pleadingly, expectantly. "Carpe diem," I managed to whisper. And she began to moan; quietly at first but then she began convulsing on the bed, shivering and screaming in pure and utter ecstasy. I knew right then that she was mine. Amanda sat up looked at me again, her eyes enthralled with the pleasure I had just given her with a mere whisper. "More!" She demanded. I shook my head, "That last one was for free. Now you have to earn it." "Fuck you, Mark! Say it! Say it!" She begged, pleaded and left her bed to kneel in front of me. I answered with a flat, "No." The bitch was going to pay for the suffering she inflicted upon the world. "Fuck you Mark, you pathetic piece of shit!" Amanda's left arm swung out to punch me, but her fist stopped inches from my face, shaking. I took pleasure in watching as her own body betrayed her. She retracted her arm and caressed it, her face contorted in sheer disbelief. "Wha-" Amanda looked incredulous, "What did you do to me?" I stood up over her kneeling form and smiled, "Whatever I want. If you want me to say those words again, you'll do whatever I want, whenever I want, or you'll never feel pleasure again. Not from hurting other people, not from control, not even from sex. Never again." When Amanda looked at me again, her eyes radiated sheer hopelessness. Now she finally understood her situation. "You're a monster," she whimpered. "At least I don't hurt innocent people," I countered. "The people whose lives you ruined deserve justice, and I am your punishment." The monster looked into my eyes, and then at my feet, defeated. "I'll do whatever you want Mark," she mouthed, and repeated it every few seconds. Every time she repeated it, she gained more enthusiasm until she reached her breaking point, "I'll be your slave, Mark. Just say the words. Please." "First, get up on the bed, take off your panties and bra, and spread your legs." My busty cousin didn't hesitate: she hurried for the bed as if her life depended on it, ripped off her bra and panties, and spread her shapely legs for me. I looked at her body, marveling at her large, youthful breasts which for so long had been the object of my darkest fantasies. I launched myself upon her and began mauling and sucking her massive its tits, enjoying the soft texture of her skin and the roughness of her hard nipple. Amanda moaned as I continued sucking her breasts. Feeling confident, I reached my right hand down to finger her tight, hot pussy, eliciting moans of wanton pleasure as I intimately explored her with my fingers. "Mmmm," She moaned, "Don't stop, Mark." Her dark eyes begged me to continue. Controlling myself, I retracted my hand, eliciting a grunt of protest from Amanda. The fact that she was fully awake and begging me to finger-fuck her pussy was almost too much for me. "Get down on your knees, slave," I commanded. "Yes sir," Amanda complied, propelling herself back down onto her knees, looking up at me with an almost child-like gaze of adoration. I unbuckled my navy jeans, slid them down, presenting Amanda with my large, swollen cock and hairy balls. "Suck it," I commanded. Amanda quickly wrapped her soft lips over the head of my cock. I watched as the rest of my shaft disappeared into her warm, wet mouth, resting easily at the edge of her throat. Slowly, she picked up a rhythm of guiding my cock in and out of her mouth. She looked up at me expectantly, gauging my reactions to see if she was doing it right. Impatient, I grabbed the back of her hair and propelled her head back and forth over my cock, roughly fucking her face. Amanda struggled to adapt as I slammed my dick down her throat and came. I relished the sound of her desperately gurgling and gulping down my cum. "How does it feel to swallow your cousin's sperm, Amanda?" Amanda took a few seconds to swallow the rest of my sperm and gazed up at me again. "It feels so filthy," she spoke, her voice full of wanton lust, "I feel like such a filthy, incestuous whore, but I love it. Your cum feels so good inside me. I need more!" I smiled, ready to fulfill another fantasy. "Get back up on the bed on all fours. I'm going to fuck you doggie style!" My 22 year-old cousin happily crawled on the bed, presenting me with her heart-shaped bubble butt. I walked behind her and smacked her ass, watching as it jiggled softly. "Spank my ass," she moaned, "That ass belongs to you, Mark!" Happy to oblige her, I spanked her again on each asscheek. I loved the way she moaned with sheer lust and pleasure with each impact. My dick began to get hard again. Without warning her, I brought my dick out again, grabbed her ass, and shoved my dick deep into her pussy. "Yes, Mark! Yes! Fuck me!" she begged. I picked up the pace, enjoying the feel of her hot cunt muscles squeezing my dick as I pounded her. I caressed her big ass and pumped my dick in and out of her tight clit. As I fucked her, I leaned over her to maul her big tits, using them as handles as I continued to thrust my way inside my cousin. "Ung, uhh, ahh, ummf," Amanda moaned. I loved listening to her hopelessly guttural grunts every time I rammed my fat cock in her pussy. I fucked her for the next hour, spanking and caressing her big ass, and sometimes yanking her hair back to grunt my dominance into her ear. "I'm going to cum," I warned her. My cousin Amanda looked back at me and smiled, "Cum inside me, Mark! Cum inside your cousin's pussy!" At that point, I was beyond all rational thought as I exploded into her. I slapped her glorious bubble butt one more time before collapsing onto the bed. "Mark, your cum feels so good inside me," she laid down next to me, gazing worshipfully into my eyes. She brought one hand to her pussy and retrieved some of my gooey cum on her index finger, and slowly sucked it into her mouth, greedily swallowing it. "Carpe diem," I whispered to her. Instantly Amanda was alive, writhing in almost as much pleasure as she did when I fucked her from behind. She was now totally addicted to the pleasure only I could give her. I marveled at my first true conquest. When Amanda was settled, I brought my lips to hers, and she met me with a long, passionate, incestuous kiss. The Whisperer Ch. 04 I woke to the sound of soft whimpering. I looked next to me to find Amanda sobbing and shivering. The sun still glowed brightly from her bedroom window, illuminating the vibrant summer trees that shifted delicately in the soft summer breeze. "What's wrong?" I asked her, feeling a twinge of sympathy despite myself. No answer. She kept sobbing. Her naked body lay next to me facing the window. Her soft skin glowed in the sunlight like a blade forged in the darkest fire. My fire. She was mine, but what was happening to her? Did I go too far? Could I heal her? I slowly reached my arm up to touch her shoulder. Her soft, smooth skin shivered even though the room was warm. I recoiled and asked her again, "What's wrong, Amanda?" She turned to face me, tears cascading from her deep brown eyes as they looked into mine. "Nothing's wrong," she smiled, tears still streaming down her face, "I've never dreamed of anything more in my life than being yours." Amanda moved her face towards mine and pecked me on the lips. Unsatisfied, I pushed my lips back onto hers, and easily slid my tongue into her delicious mouth. I savored the moment as our tongues danced incestuously in each other's mouths before I broke the kiss and slowly guided my hand across her face and into her hair. Amanda looked into my eyes again with that childlike gaze of adoration. "Somnus," I whispered. Instantly, Amanda's eyes closed and her body went limp. She had fallen into a deep state of sleep. I tweaked her left nipple as I began to whisper. "Amanda." "Yes, Mark?" She answered innocently. "What did you mean when you said you'd dreamt of nothing more than being mine?" She stirred visibly, as if she were about to unearth some dark secret, "Ever since I was fourteen, I've been having these fantasies. They were subtle at first, just me picturing kissing you on the lips, but then I started fantasizing about doing other things with you." Her lips curled into a slight smile at the admission. I played dumb, "What sorts of 'other things'?" "I dreamt about you taking me to out to dinner and ordering my food for me, about you telling me what to do, protecting me and taking care of me. I brushed those off as harmless dreams, but then I thought about you fucking me, about you making me into your little fuck-slut, dominating me in and out of the bedroom. Most of all, I dreamt about you roughly fucking my asshole and spanking me like the whore I am. The fact that we are cousins made those thoughts twice as dirty and," she moaned softly in pleasure, "arousing." I was speechless. My member was instantly hard as I pictured Amanda pleasuring herself to the image of me dominating her even without my powers. But why did she always try to boss me around? "If you wanted me to dominate you this whole time, why were you such a bitch to me and the rest of the world?" "When I was young, I told my mom about my fantasies. She beat me and ridiculed me, and wouldn't let me out of the house until I told her I hated you. She wanted me to be just like her with the parties and fucking people over for their money. And she won. I became exactly what she wanted me to be. I fucked over so many people it makes me sick. And since I never stopped loving you, I felt that I needed to be harsh with you so you wouldn't get close enough to me that I'd be able to hurt you." A single tear escaped from underneath her eyelids. I sat back on the bed. What had I done? Here she was, this beautiful woman who went through hell because she believed that it would keep me from getting hurt, and I had violated her like the asshole I am. I really am a monster. "Amanda, do you want me to remove the triggers I've given you, and release you from your contract? You'll be able to feel pleasure normally again." "No." She answered flatly. "Why?" "I was a horrible person before you did those things to me. But you made me better. You fixed me. I want to be your obedient girlfriend and cousin. I'll never want anything else," she spoke with sheer conviction, something I had rarely experienced from the people I whispered with. "Please don't make me go back. Please - I'll do anything. Please let me stay this way!" I was taken aback when she shouted that last part, and was worried about what could happen if a person woke up in the middle of my Whispering. "Are you sure?" I pressed on. "I've never been surer of anything in my life," Amanda answered, her voice quickly quieting back into a normal innocent whisper. I relented, "Then you'll stay this way, Amanda, for as long as you want to." Her lips curled into a miniature smile again, "Thank you, Mark. I love you so much." "I love you too, Amanda," I whispered and kissed her lightly on her delicate lips. "Somnus." Instantly, her gorgeous eyes opened and she gazed at me, smiling. "Hey you," she whispered, as if her loudness might disturb our embrace. "Hey," I whispered affectionately, and smiled at her. Amanda brought her lips close to mine and whispered, "Let me give you a present, sir." I was too tired from our fucking earlier this morning to respond. I simply watched as my gorgeous curvy cousin made her way down my body and took my cock out from under the bed sheets. Instantly, my member sprang to life. As she caressed it, her massive tits swayed back and forth. "Mmmm," she moaned, "Such a nice, fantastic cock. You fucked me so well this morning, sir, I think it's time I return the favor." She bent down and her lips hovered over my massive dick. Slowly, Amanda eased her tongue over the pre-cum forming at the tip of my cock and worked her way down to my balls. I felt her warm mouth envelop my left testicle as her tongue massaged and caressed it with the skill of the most talented porn stars. After a minute, she alternated to my right testicle, taking it fully into her mouth as she tried desperately to suck the sperm from my balls. Amanda released my testicles from her mouth and slowly worked her tongue down lower to the outer edge of my asshole. Feeling bold, she probed closer to my sphincter. "You want to lick your cousin's asshole? I would've never guessed you were this dirty." I taunted. Amanda looked up at me, giggling mischievously. "Oh you have no idea, Mark," she promised. Then she plunged back down and began licking my bare asshole. I felt oddly aroused as she probed deeper into my ass with her tongue. When she finished licking my ass, Amanda dragged her tongue up, over my balls, past my cock shaft, and enveloped my cockhead with her hot, dirty mouth. "You like sucking your cousin's cock after you lick his asshole, huh slut?" Amanda moaned a "mhm", shoved my dick further into her mouth and began to pump her mouth up and down over my cock with such ferocity that the room was filled with her slurping and gurgling sounds. Suddenly she stopped fucking my dick with her face and looked up at me lovingly. Her dark eyes glittered with pure lust. Amanda closed her eyes and shoved my dick all the way inside her mouth and into her throat. She held my dick there for what seemed like an eon of pleasure before she retracted my cock from her mouth with an audible "blop". Amanda looked deep into my eyes again and shoved my cock back up into her throat. I took in the sight of my 22 year-old cousin deepthroating me. Her warm, wet mouth and throat caressed my cock so tightly I felt that I was about to explode. "Amanda, I'm coming! It's gonna be big!" I warned her. I expected her to take her mouth off my dick, but she held herself in place and looked at me lovingly as I emptied my balls deep into her throat. My busty cousin slurped and gulped down my cumload. She swallowed it so eagerly that she nearly coughed some of it back up, but she recovered and downed the rest in one gulp. Amanda looked up at me, and when I saw her face covered in mass amounts of saliva and drivel, I took one look in her eyes and said, "Baby, you are the most beautiful thing on the planet." She stood up to look at herself in the mirror, took one look at me and we both burst out laughing. I grabbed her by the waist and forced her down with me and we wrestled and kissed on the bed. I grabbed and spanked her bubble butt as our tongues explored each other's mouths. I had never been happier in my life. Suddenly, a noise sounded from downstairs. "Mark! Amanda! We're Home!" "Crap! Our moms are back," I whispered. Amanda moaned in disappointment, "And I never even got to show you how bad of a dirty, submissive cousin I am." I was stunned and for a moment, my cock threatened to rise again. "You certainly are just full of surprises, Amanda." I swatted her on the ass and caressed her magnificent breasts, eliciting low moans of pleasure from her. "Get dressed, slut, and I'll show you later how much of a domineering bastard I can be." She gave me an adoring smile and I kissed her one last time before I got dressed. As I made my way into the hallway, I whispered, "Carpe diem," into Amanda's room. I chuckled with satisfaction as I heard her collapse and struggle to stifle her moans. I made my way downstairs with a smile on my face. Mom met me when I came downstairs. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry we got back so late. The main route was bumper to bumper on the way back." Of course I told her being late was no problem. "We brought pizza because I figured you and Amanda would be hungry after waiting for us." Ah, pizza. "Thanks Mom!" I hugged her. I didn't pay much attention to the way her breasts crushed against my torso because I was still reeling from my lovemaking with Amanda. Lovemaking, huh? I thought to myself. I had never made love before. No, before this I had only fucked, but with Amanda, I felt like physical pleasure wasn't the most important part of what we did. I was beginning to suspect I might be falling in love with her. Amanda came down soon after and we ate pizza together. Mom and Aunt Sarah went into the TV room to watch a movie and we were thankfully left alone. She wore tight blouse that crushed her breasts against her chest and a short skirt that accentuated her jiggling ass. She was a vision. We didn't speak as much with words as we did though eye and body contact. We would gaze longingly into each other's eyes as we caressed our bodies with our legs and feet under the table. As Amanda was finishing off one of her slices, a piece of sauce dripped down onto the wooden table. I picked up my napkin to dab it off, but she waved it away. She bent her head down and slowly licked the sauce into her mouth and smiled devilishly. Feeling like doing some punishing, I stuck my bare foot between her legs and my big toe met her warm, delicious pussy. She hadn't even worn any panties with that fucking skirt! Her breath did a sharp intake as I stuck my big toe further into her cunt. Amanda closed her eyes and moaned softly as I teased her pussy. After a minute or so, she opened her eyes to look at me. Her watering eyes begged me for more, and I intended to deliver. I stuck another toe deep into her cunt and continued to fuck her with my foot while our moms were in the next room. Emboldened, I shoved a third toe into her soaking pussy and fucked her harder. I motioned for her to lean forward and I retracted my foot from her cunt and put it on the table. She didn't need to be told what to do. Amanda instantly engulfed my toes into her hot mouth and sucked ravenously at her own pussy juices. "I think it's time we take this little party back upstairs. Go upstairs and get ready for me." "Yes sir," Amanda smiled with anticipation and slowly walked toward the stairs, looking back at me as she swayed her ass seductively. I smiled at her as she walked up the stairs. Now I had one last chore for the night before I could spend the rest of it in heaven. I walked into the TV room to find Mom passed out on the couch, but Aunt Sarah was still awake and watching television. I wanted to wait for a little bit to see if Aunt Sarah would go to sleep, but something inside me urged me to try something. "Hey, Aunt Sarah." I must've scared her, because she quickly turned toward me and let out a sharp yelp. I looked toward my mother. Still asleep. Good. "Do you feel tired, Aunt Sarah?" I wondered. I felt as if a dark presence within me were reaching out to Aunt Sarah. It was significantly more perceptible than the feelings I sometimes got when I whispered to people in the endless cosmos of their dreams. Here, there was no cosmos. Just terrible, binding reality. I could make Aunt Sarah want to let go. "Y-yes," she answered, suddenly yawning. "Wouldn't it be great to just fall asleep and let all your worries go?" "N-no," she struggled as her eyes threatened to close. "You've had a hard and stressful day, haven't you Aunt Sarah? You've had to deal with shopping and traffic all day, and on the top of that you have to put up with a disobedient daughter and needy guests. Don't you just want to slip away and enjoy the bliss of your dreams?" "Y-" she let out a long yawn, "Yes." Her eyes closed, "Need... to sleep." "Sleep, Aunt Sarah." And she was asleep. I thought about probing her for information on the horrible things she did to Amanda, but I could always do that tomorrow. I could make her sleep whenever I wanted, and Amanda, the hot vixen cousin of my dreams was waiting for me. My work could wait at least until after the sun rose to dominate the landscape once more in its daily conquest against the fathomless abyss of space. "Mom? Aunt Sarah?" "Yes?" they both replied in unison. "Today's been a rough day. There's no need to wake up early. You want to relax and sleep in, right?" "Yes, Mark." The way they answered in monotonous simultaneity gave me the chills. It was like they were connected somehow. Maybe siblings had some sort of connection that transcended rational thought. But enough questions for tonight. "So, if you wake up early, you'll stay lying down in this room until you can sleep again, because you want to relax, right?" "Yes, Mark." "Then, if you wake up you will look at the clock and see that it reads a number before twelve PM tomorrow morning, you will instantly fall asleep again. Do you agree?" "Yes, Mark. Anything for my son." Mom replied and she was silent. Aunt Sarah's voluptuous body shuddered before she answered, "Yes, Mark. Anything for my son." What the hell? "Mom?" I replied, too stunned to say anything else. "Yes, Mark?" They both replied in perfect unison. "Aunt Sarah?" "Yes, Mark?" They both replied. I recoiled and took a few steps back from Mom and Aunt Sarah. Did siblings share a subconscious or was I somehow serving as a bridge between them? I approached Aunt Sarah and knelt over her, fighting the temptation to stare down her massive cleavage. "Hi, Aunt Sarah," I whispered in her ear so Mom would not hear. "Hi, Mark," They both answered in perfect unison. Suddenly, I heard a noise in the hallway. I exited the room to hear someone quietly climbing the stairs. The wooden stairs at Aunt Sarah's house always creaked when someone tried to traverse them. I walked up the stairs as silently as I could. Had Amanda seen me? Even though I had bound her voluntarily to my will, I still didn't know how she would react when she saw the thing that really made me a monster. I would have to be cautious. Silently, I entered Amanda's room to find sitting on the bed facing the door. Instantly her dark gaze was upon me, her eyes ablaze with curiosity. I looked at her and asked, "What did you see?" She didn't feign ignorance, "I'm not sure what I saw, Mark! What the hell were you doing to them?" Although I could have lulled Amanda to sleep and coaxed her into forgetting that she saw me control our mothers, I decided to be honest. I told her about how I originally discovered my powers of suggestion when I manipulated her subconscious mind a few days ago, to how I had fixed the mistake that was Heather Richardson. She was receptive throughout my confession and silent until I mentioned that I had manipulated her early that morning. "Wait, Mark, you did this to me?" She shot me an uncertain look, the way an amnesiac would when he is told who he is, but doesn't understand or believe in his former life. I nodded guiltily and said nothing. My gaze wandered toward Amanda's dark window. Outside, the sun had completely set, casting dark hues of green into the violet evening sky, paving the way for the first stars which cast their light like timid fireflies gliding down from the heavens. "I guess that explains why I haven't felt the need to hurt anyone, and why I can be so completely honest with you," she pondered, "So, that thing you do, is it like some sort of hypnosis or mind control? Could you get someone, such as my mom, to do things they wouldn't normally do?" I gazed into her eyes again, "It's like I told you before; I can only control people while they sleep, and even then I can only easily manipulate their subconscious actions. It's a lot more difficult for me to change how a person acts when they're awake. I still don't know why that is, or why any of this is happening, or if any of this is even real. I sometimes imagine that I died a long time ago, or that I'm in a coma and my life so far has been an echo of the loneliness I have felt when I was awake. I keep expecting to wake up in a world full of friends, but I always wake up alone," She looked at me, tears forming in her eyes, "But to answer your question: Yes, I could probably get someone like your mom to do something out of character with a strong enough push while they sleep. Why?" Amanda shook her head and slipped out her one-piece nightgown. Her massive mounds shot out of her perfect hourglass figure. "Never mind what I said, Mark," she walked softly towards me, "My questions aren't important. You saved that little Richardson boy and his father, and you didn't give in to temptation to experiment on innocent people. You're a real man, Mark, far better than I deserve. I can only hope to prove myself to be worthy of serving at your feet. I'm a horrible person Mark. I've hurt a lot of people, but what you did to me helped me become a better person. I'm in love with you, Mark, and I'll always love you. I don't expect you to love me, Mark, but I promise that as long as you let me serve your wants and needs, you'll never have to wake up alone again. And-" I grabbed her by the arm and forced my mouth onto hers. Her body melted in my arms as we kissed more passionately than either of us had before. I broke the kiss and stared lovingly at her eyes which were still closed. My arms caressed the smoothness of her behind. She opened her eyes and smiled contentedly, "Well, I guess that settles it then." I quickly positioned my arms long her back and lifted her up. She squealed happily in surprise as I carried her to the bed and set her down. She spread her legs as I took my clothes off and positioned my face between her legs. My cousin moaned with anticipation as my tongue approached her beautiful pussy. Amanda drew a sharp intake of breath as I stroked her clit with my tongue and rubbed the length of her pussy. "Ah, ah, Master, oh! Don't stop! Please don't stop!" she begged. It was the first time Amanda had ever called me Master, I mused, and continued licking her delicious cunt. I stuck my right index finger into her pussy and pulled it out. Slowly, I inched my lubricated finger towards her sphincter. I removed my mouth from her pussy and asked her, "How would you like my dick in your tight asshole?" "Mhmmm. Yes, sir, I'd love your cock in my ass!" "Good girl," I pushed my index finger past her sphincter and into her asshole. My index finger easily slid in. She must have played with her ass many times before. I quickly developed a rhythm finger fucking her tight bowels before I slid a second finger in to the knuckle.