Chapter 32

I didn’t tell Lucy about what I’d done to Mom.

A part of me was scared, I guess. I knew it was a means to an end - a happy ending, in every sense of the phrase.

But I also knew that what I’d done was ... well, it wasn’t you’d call nice.

I think I could have. Lucy was so turned on by my power; even if I was being a monster, I’m sure she’d still love it.

Maybe she’d love it more.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I love my sister, I love my Mom. Seeing Mom break down like that ... it had almost been more than I could deal with.

I couldn’t share that with my sister. I just couldn’t do it.

Watching Mom over the next few days though ... god.

It absolutely worth it.

Where she’d been fascinated by Lucy’s bare breasts for the nudism aspect, now it was clear that she was obsessed with them for the same reason as me: Because they’re perfect, glorious orbs of pure sex.

Lucy noticed Mom’s attention. She told me about it, when she was awake. I answered honestly, sort of:

“I think she’s into you.”

Lucy almost came at the words.

Lucy had spent some time teasing me, before becoming my slave. Wearing slutty outfits, bending over when she knew I was looking. It only took an order - not even a session - to convince her to do the same with Mom, except more-so. She didn’t have to tease with skimpy clothes ... she could tease with her bare skin.

Whenever she caught Mom looking at her, she’d casually run a hand down her breast, brush a finger against her nipple. Lucy would often walk around the house in nothing but a pair of panties; if Mom was looking, she’d spread her legs, ensure her wet spot was visible.

And there was always a wet spot.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t have to hide my lust for my sister. As far as Mom was concerned, we’d fucked. Our impulses had been rewritten; I could stare at my sister’s perfect form, bite my lip when she was being particularly provocative ... and whenever both my Mom and Lucy were in the room, keep the outline of my hard cock as visible through my boxers as I liked.

Mom’s implanted memories also meant that Lucy and I had a lot more time to ourselves. More than six times a day, I’d said - that left Lucy and I alone a lot.

I wouldn’t have believed it if you’d told me a year ago, but there’s a limit to how much time I wanted to spend jerking off on my sister’s face, or having her swallow yet another load of my cum.

Fortunately, I had another way we could spend our time.

Session 43:

“What would really show you how powerful I am?”

I’d planned on telling her about what I’d done to Mom, the changes I’d wrought. I’d planned on demonstrating my power by showing her what I’d done to our mother.

But I couldn’t bring myself to do that, so I needed a new plan.

“If I...”

There was a long pause, as Lucy mustered up the courage to answer.

“If you fucked me.”

I tilted my head to the side. My sister, god bless her, never failed to surprise me.

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“Why is that?”

“Because ... it’s wrong. It’s incest. We can never do it.”

I guess that made sense. If I made her do something that she insisted we could never do, that would be proof of my power.

Only trouble was, the reason I was trying to establish my power was so that I could fuck her.

I needed another angle.

“What if I fucked Mom?”

Lucy’s eyes fluttered briefly. If I’d been touching her (or she’d been touching me), I’d bet anything that she would have cum at the question.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, if you fucked Mom, that would show me how powerful you are.”

“Why?”

“Because Mom would never do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s incest. Because it’s wrong.”

I don’t know if there’s a name for it, but I’ve noticed that my sister tends to project her morals onto other people a lot. She thinks that fucking your sibling is wrong, therefore I’d never do it. Therefore, I’d never ask her to.

Lucy would do it if I asked her to, but because she thinks it’s so wrong, it’s something that I would never ask her to do.

It’s a little recursive, and a whole lot of a nuisance.

“If I showed you I was that powerful, how would you feel?”

There was a pause, as Lucy found the right word.

“Awed.”

“What would you do?”

“Anything.”

My ears perked up at that.

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

“If I fucked Mom, would you fuck me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you’d be so powerful.”

“So?”

“So you’d be too powerful to resist.”

Session 49:

“I am all-powerful, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“You cannot resist me, can you?”

“No.”

“What will you do if I order you to do something?”

“I will obey.”

“What if you don’t want to?”

“I will obey.”

“What if you think that it’s wrong?”

“I will obey.”

“Say it again.”

“I will obey.”

“Again.”

“I will obey.”

Session 43:

“Would you have sex with Mom?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because that would be incest, and it’s wrong.”

Interesting, though not unexpected.

“Is it incest when you go down on me?”

“No.”

“Is it incest when I finger you?”

“No.”

“Is it incest when I go down on you?”

“No.”

“So going down on someone or fingering them isn’t incest, is it?”

“No.”

“Would you finger Mom?”

“ ... yes.”

“Would you go down on Mom?”

“Yes.”

That one came faster, firmer. After all, it wasn’t incest, right?

“Would you let Mom finger you?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let Mom go down on you?”

“Yes.”

Zero hesitation.

“So ... what would count as having sex with Mom?”

There was a long pause at that one.

“ ... I don’t know.”

I could have left it there. If Lucy and Mom were ‘just’ eating each other out and cumming around each other’s digits, that was more than enough for me.

But I had to push through Lucy’s incest barrier somehow, and this was as good a place as any to start.

“Lesbian sex is fingering and oral, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. And toys.”

“You let me use toys on you, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Would you use toys on me?”

“Yes.”

Not that I wanted her to.

“So using toys isn’t incest, is it?”

“No.”

“Would you use toys on Mom?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let Mom use toys on you?”

“Yes.”

“Fingering, oral, toys - you’d do it all with Mom?”

“Yes.”

“So you’d have sex with Mom, wouldn’t you?”

There was a pause. I always got uncomfortable when there was a long pause. I’d already fried one person’s mind; I definitely didn’t want to do it again.

But I’d seen this before. Lucy is good at tying herself into weird loops, and it takes her a while to unravel them.

“ ... yes.”

“Would you commit incest with Mom?”

“Yes.”

“Would it be wrong?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s different, with girls. It doesn’t count.”

I rolled my eyes. For someone so progressive, Lucy’s sense of gender politics could be really twisted when it suited her.

Session 49:

“I was born to be your slave.”

“Say it again.”

“I was born to be your slave.”

“Good girl.”

My sister twitched with pleasure at the compliment.

“You were born to serve. Say it.”

“I was born to serve.”

“Again.”

“I was born to serve.”

Session 43:

“Hypothetical: you walk in on me and Mom having sex.”

Shake.

I knew she’d react that way, of course, but I was out of ideas.

“Why don’t you believe I’d have sex with Mom?”

“It’s incest.”

“Incest can be hot, can’t it?”

“Yes.“

Even through the monotone, Lucy almost sounded like she was begging.

“So what would stop me?”

“It’s wrong.”

I could get lost for hours in the maze that is my sister’s morality, but I couldn’t see it being worth it. If she thinks something is wrong, or unfair, she ... My eyes widened.

Unfair.

“Hypothetical: You start having regular sex with Mom.”

Nod.

I was almost tripping over my words, such was my desperation to get them out.

“You and Mom start having regular sex.”

Nod. I didn’t even have to build into it; Lucy was completely onboard with having regular sex with Mom.

I mean, why wouldn’t she? It wouldn’t be incest, after all.

“You know how much it turns me on.”

Nod.

“You know how hard it gets me.”

Nod.

“But you also know that I’m jealous.”

Lucy paused, and I elaborated.

“I love both of you, and I find you both so attractive.”

Nod. I’d never explicitly let Lucy know how sexy I found Mom, but I guess she’d just sort of worked it out.

“I’d love to have sex with either of you, but I can’t.”

Nod.

“Because it’s wrong.”

Nod.

“But you and Mom can have sex, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You have Mom can have sex - in front of me - and it’s totally fine, because it’s not incest.”

Nod.

“But if I were to have sex with one of you, that would be incest.”

Nod.

“I tell you how much it’s hurting me, knowing that you two can be together and that we can’t. What do you say?”

“Jack,” Lucy said tenderly. “It’s not the same. You know it’s not the same.”

“I tell you that I know, but it still doesn’t stop the pain. What do you say?”

“I’ll stop.”

The matter-of-fact way that she answered made my heart melt. It sometimes felt like my sister would do anything for me.

Well, almost anything.

“I tell you that I can’t make you do that; I know how much you enjoy it. How much Mom enjoys it. What do you say?”

“Please...”

Lucy trailed off. I smiled.

Doubt. She didn’t have an answer. There was a gap.

And where there was a gap, there were limits, ready to be pushed.

Session 49:

“Who were you born to serve?”

“You.”

“Good girl.”

Twitch.

“You exist for my pleasure. Say it.”

“I exist for your pleasure.”

“Again.”

“I exist for your pleasure.”

“Good girl.”

If my fingers hadn’t been deep inside her, I think she would have twitched right off the chair.

Session 43:

“Do you enjoy what we do?”

“Yes.”

Zero hesitation there.

“What do you enjoy about it?”

“Serving you.”

Again, not even a hint of doubt.

“How does it make you feel?”

“Happy. Turned on. Fulfilled.”

I didn’t even remember instructing her to feel fulfilled. The idea that she just naturally felt that way was so hot to me, but I had to stay focused.

“How do you feel about us going back to how we were before?”

Lucy didn’t even need to answer; the look of sadness that passed across her blank gaze said it all.

“You don’t want to disobey me, do you?”

“No sir.”

“Hypothetical: You’re having regular sex with our mother, and I get jealous. I’m upset that I can’t have sex with either of you, because it’s wrong. I tell you that there are only two choices: I start having sex with one of you, or we all have to end it. What do you say?”

My sister paused, and I gripped my own leg hard enough to leave a bruise. I was watching her face like a hawk - any sign of her waking up meant that I had to dive in, reverse the hypothetical. She couldn’t wake up now, thinking she was having regular sex with our mother.

Not yet.

It was minutes (that felt like hours), just as I was about to pull the plug, before she answered. Slowly. Cautiously.

Thoughtfully.

“ ... what if we worked things out, so that...”

I waited.

“What if we worked things out, so that ... so that you and Mom could ... have sex?”

Session 44: The next time I put Lucy under, I ran the same hypothetical, just to be sure.

The pause was shorter this time, but the answer was the same.

“What if you and Mom had sex?”

I smiled.

“Wouldn’t that be incest?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t that be wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe that I’d do it?”

“Yes.”

“In what circumstances?”

“If ... if I made you.”

Lucy, for all her submissive tendencies, is a real control freak.

Me fucking our mother? Impossible. Would never happen. Never, ever, ever.

Unless, of course, it was for her.

As far as she was concerned, she was still the one who had been leading us down this path of sin. Me dominating her, owning her, bringing her off with my hand: it had been her fantasy. Everything she’d done ... she’d convinced herself that it wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t incest.

Because it was her idea.

“How could you make me?”

“I could cry. Beg. Plead.”

“In what situation would you do that?”

“If I thought things were going to end.”

I smiled.

“You think things are going to end between us unless I fuck you or Mom. What do you do?”

“I convince you to fuck Mom.”

Amazing. Something occurred to me; something I hadn’t thought of in the previous session.

“Why Mom? Why not you?”

“Because if we had sex, that would be incest.”

“Isn’t it incest if I fuck Mom?”

“Yes, but...”

I rode out the pause.

“ ... it isn’t as bad.”

Interesting.

“Why isn’t it as bad if I fuck Mom?”

As Lucy paused, I silently wondered what she was going to say. Because Mom was older? Because Mom was less likely to get pregnant? Because Mom was our ... Mom?

“Because you’d be doing it for me,” Lucy eventually answered.

“What do you mean?”

“You’d never do it yourself. You’d never do something so wrong. But if I asked you to, you’d do it ... for me.”

I took a moment to ponder my sister’s bizarre moral stance. There was a certain logic to it, I suppose. It seemed my sister believed that if someone did something out of necessity, it wasn’t as bad as doing it for pleasure.

Like when I’d ‘broken my arms’. My sister had jerked me off 34 to 37 times. I knew she’d enjoyed it, and she knew she’d enjoyed it. But because she’d had to, that enjoyment ... hadn’t counted, so to speak.

We could do stuff that was wrong, as long as it was for the right reasons.

And in my sister’s beautiful, twisted mind, allowing her to continue fooling around with me was a prime example of a ‘right reason’ to commit incest.

Y’know. As long as it wasn’t her that was doing it.

“Why would it be bad if I fucked you?” I asked, pretty sure that I already knew the answer.

“Because,” my sister said hesitantly. “I’d enjoy it too much.”

Session 47:

“Please,” my sister begged. “Please please please please please please please.”

“‘I tell you ‘no’. What do you say?”

“Please...”

“I say no, not until I do. What do you say?”

“Oh god, please. I’ll do anything!”

I smiled. That was what I’d been waiting to hear.

Session A127: