3rd Wave
“So, Hubert, what do you do for a living?” My father asks as my sister’s boyfriend perks up at the end of the table. “I’m a fry cook at a diner nearby, but pretty sure I’m hoping to be promoted to head fry cook.” Hubert says, wiping some food off his mouth as my father grunts and returns to his food.
My family is in a state of confusion and it all revolves around this guy who has entered our lives. My sister, by just about any standards, is a beautiful woman. Her skin is flawless, with jet black hair down to her shoulders, and her two best assets were front and center, easily a D cup and as if God didn’t want to bless her enough, her ass wasn’t anything to scoff at either. Despite this, Julie had always been a fiercely independent woman. A feminist in every regard, she is prone to covering her body and abhors objectification, and we joke, men in general. However, the few times she had ever dated anyone it had been men of her caliber. Attractive, athletic, and generally sharing in her feminist ideals. Which is why Hubert is such an anomaly.
No disrespect to the man, but Hubert is none of these things. Morbidly obese with greasy hair and a pizza face if I ever saw one, they met junior year of high school and have been dating a few months since then. I was about to graduate in a few months, so I didn’t care much at all, but it was still perplexing.
“Hubert do you…do you have any plans for college?” My other sister, Carly, asked before taking a sip of her water. Carly is about a year younger than Julie and not as pretty but still beautiful in her own regards. Red curly hair, received from some long ago ancestor no doubt, her ass is only a hair smaller then Julie’s but her breasts are easily a cup bigger. “Not really, thinking of just working at the diner for a while till I marry some girl, then she can work and I’ll really focus on my video games.” He said, Julie sighing and squeezing his arm.
The dinner went on and, as you can imagine, it was as awkward as anyone could possibly predict. This was one of the few times we’ve met Hubert and the entire dinner had more or less regulated itself to isolated questions followed by answers that only made us question his relationship to Julie more. It wasn’t until the end of the dinner that he mentioned he would be visiting some family out of state for a few months, to our relief and Julie’s visual disappointment. It was after his departure, and a kiss with my sister that was far too graphic, that Hubert dispersed and the rest of us were able to breathe easy again. It looked like my Father wanted to say something but my mother put her hand on his arm and they went off as Carly cleaned the table and Julie went off.
“Hey Julie” I said, knocking on the door to her room. “can we talk for a minute?” “Sure Mark, what’s up?”
Entering, I closed the door behind me as I sat at her desk and she on the edge of her bed. Patting my knee nervously I didn’t know how exactly to approach this topic. “Hubert seems nice…”
“Oh my God, isn’t he the best? He’s so charming and handsome and the best boyfriend I’ve ever had!” She practically shrieked, flopping herself onto her bed. “Is he though? He’s sort of…shitty. Just kind of all around shitty person.” I state, Julie staring at me with an expression I’ve never seen before. It was hard to place but it was almost a blank expression but behind it I could sense some anger.
“Hubert is perfect. He is the perfect man for me. Leave me alone.” She stated, getting up and practically pushing me from her room.
“Fine bitch, God damn, just trying to help.” I mutter to myself, going back to my room and doing some homework.
The next few weeks went by without much issue and, with Hubert gone, Julie slowly began reverting to what we would describe as her “old self”. She started wearing frumpier and frumpier clothes and busied herself with more and more of her feminist pet projects. I even tried dropping some criticism of Hubert and although she still defended him with that same statement, there was a little more confusion and uncertainty in her voice.
It was a few days after my last criticism of Hubert that Julie and I were playing Mario Kart. She was wearing some bulky sweater and sweatpants with her hair done up in a ponytail and her nightguard in. I just lapped her and dropped a blue shell to win the race.
“God Damn it! This is bullshit, this game was designed to give an unfair advantage to men!” She shouted, pushing me before crossing her arms. I couldn’t help but notice how this extenuated her bust. Rolling my eyes I snickered “Yeah yeah, nighty night bitch! Haha!”
Exiting to the main menu I was expecting some retort but instead I turned to see Julie slumped on the ground, her eyes closed and a bit of drool slowly dripping out of her mouth. Did she fall asleep? She was awake a few minutes ago, “Julie? You okay?” “I’m fine Master.”
Master? This was creeping me out. “Julie, knock it off, wake up.”
Blinking a few times, Julie yawned and sat up again, rubbing the sleep from her eyes I couldn’t help but notice the outline of her breasts as she yawned and stretched her arms backwards, pressing her mounds against the dull fabric.
“What happened? Did I crash?”
“No you…you just nodded off for a second. Hey I’m just gonna call it for tonight, night.” I say, scurrying out of the room. Leaping on my bed, I immediately whip out my cock and begin beating. I tried to keep my mind off the obvious but no matter how I tried it always drifted back to my sister’s tits suffocating in that enormous sweater.
What was that? She called me master? My sister would never call anyone master let alone a man. I tried to ease off and engage in some edging but it is hopeless and I explode into my rag a few minutes later.
Catching my breath I fall back into my bed and think about what happened. Presuming this wasn’t some accident or some practical joke I wonder what possibly triggered it. Was it losing Mario Kart? That’s ridiculous, we’ve played plenty of times before. Maybe it was what I said after winning? Night Night bitch? I’ve never really said that phrase before and she collapsed almost immediately after I said it.
I decided to test my theory but I need some opportunity to use the phrase organically as not to raise any suspicion. A few days later I was walking outside of her room as she was going to bed. “Night” She said, rubbing lotions of her arms as I stopped in the doorway. Julie was wearing booty shorts and an unusually tight tank top, struggling to contain her enormous breasts.
“Nighty night.” I state, observing my sister closely. Flashing a smile at me she continues her nightly routine as I grit my teeth and decide to lay my cards on the table. “Nighty night bitch.”
Expecting a slap or some rude remark, my sister immediately collapsed to the floor.
I could hardly contain my excitement. Practically gasping out of excitement, I entered the room and locked the door behind me. Grabbing my sister I straighten her out, leaning her up against the base of her bed. I’m to excited for focus but I can’t help but notice her massive chest heaving with each breath.
“Julie…what’s happening to you right now?”
“I’m in a trance, master.”
“Why?”
“Because my master put me in a trance.”
“Who is your master?”
“Hubert.”
Just like that it all makes sense. How some fat, disgusting, unambitious misogynist could score a radical feminist 10 like my sister. He must have drugged her. Mind control maybe? I thought that stuff only existed in the movies and bad fiction but, here it was.
“How did Hubert do this to you?” I ask, resisting temptation until I fully understand the situation. “He used a CD with a program on it, Master.”
“Does he still have it?” I ask, ideas starting to form in my head. “No Master, he accidently left it in my room before leaving.” Smiling, I tap my knee for a few seconds before getting to the brass tax of the issue.
“Will you do anything I say?” “Yes Master, I must obey.”
“Did Hubert ever have sex with you?” “No master, he wanted our first time to be after bringing back some toys from his trip out of state.” She droned, no tone or inflection in her voice. “How do I command you?”
“The phrase ‘Nighty Night Bitch’ puts me in a trance. The phrase ‘Wake up’ brings me out of the trance.”
This is fantastic. My incredibly attractive sister Julie completely at my control. I want to take this slow, I don’t know how long this lasts or what the lengths are. Maybe I should practice this on Carly before going super far with Julie. Regardless, there are a few things I want to cover first.
“Julie, first, stop falling down whenever someone puts you in a trance. Do you understand this?” “Yes Master.” She droned.
“Second, you will only obey me. Hubert’s commands no longer work on you.” “Yes Master.”
How far should I go? Is there a limit to how many commands I can give per trance? Does it wear off? I decide to go for it, better now the never.
“Julie, show me your breasts.”
Like clockwork my sister stood up and hooked her arms underneath her tank top, pulling it over her head. We’ve yet to reach the main event and I’m already in awe. Even in the simple act of removing her shirt, they are still bouncing with each mound a generous handful of flesh. Reaching for the clasp behind her I was treated to the image of her tits jutting out from her chest before her plain white bra fell to the ground.
I almost choked on my own tongue. Huge mountains of creamy white that seem to defy gravity itself. Reaching out, I admire the softness as she continues to stand there, completely blank. “Julie, you will physically react to all my actions.”
“Yes master!” She lets out in a gasp as all the sensations of having her breasts fondled hits her at once. Twirling her nipples in my fingers Her breathing increased and I saw her begin to bite her lip. I don’t know if Hubert left some subliminal suggestions to make her breasts more sensitive but Julie was incredibly aroused. I continued to grope my sister and I could have done this for hours but I did not want to push too far too fast.
“Julie, put your bra and shirt back on.” I say, taking a step back as Julie redresses herself. I almost stop her from putting her shirt on but decide against it. Making sure no evidence of my activities exist I turn to Julie. “Wake up Julie.”
My sister’s eyes flutter open as she yawns and stretches, giving me a generous view of the breasts I had just fondled. “Sorry Mark I must have dozed off there. Were you saying something?”
“Nothing important, sis. Goodnight” “Night Mark.”
Walking out of her room I’m not exactly sure what I’d do with this gift. I’m sure how far I’d go. I’m sure who I’d use it on. All I know is that I am harder than I’ve ever been in my life.