The Second Machine Ch. 01

Babe

The Second Machine

by Pan

Chapter 1:

“Ew,” my 18-year old 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 unnoticingly 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 güvenilir bahis 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 türkçe bahis 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 güvenilir bahis siteleri 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?”

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