The
Second Machine
by Pan
Chapter 2:
I smiled as I checked my PayPal account. The money was trickling in, slowly but surely.
The first machine I'd invented had given me the ability to erase the last ten minutes from someone's memory, provided I had access to their unique brainwave pattern. All I needed to do was project the exact opposite impulses that their hippocampus emitted, and bam - their most recent thoughts would never make it to long-term memory.
So far I'd only used it on my sister Edie and myself, but I was reasonably sure that after just a few minutes of scanning, it could be configured to work on anyone.
The second machine, that was the one that I was truly proud of.
It was a simple design - like the memory eraser, it projected impulses, but with a different aim. Instead of cancelling brainwaves out, it amplified them, creating such a strong emotional response that they didn't notice my orders seeping into their brain.
I'd used it on my sister - by amplifying her reaction whenever I suggested something sexual, she got angry and offended...and didn't notice her own body obeying my every command.
The problem was, it only worked when I suggested something sexual. I'd tried to make her do housework, but it would only work as part of a sexual roleplay.
I turned from my computer, to find Edie picking up the last of my laundry, dressed in a French maid outfit so short that she didn't even need to bend over to show off that beautiful ass of hers.
"Will zere be anythink elze?" she asked, her sultry voice contrasting beautifully with the angry glare that she was giving me.
At that moment, Edie had no idea that she was pretending to be a French maid. She remembered me asking her to dress up in the sexy costume and clean my room, but she had no idea that she'd actually done it.
"I think there's something else that needs cleaning," I said lewdly as I spread my legs. As per her training, her eyes lit up in excitement as she got down on her knees, but as soon as the specific instruction ("Look excited whenever I proposition you") was obeyed, her face went back to the angry glare, and it was that fury that I saw as I fucked her face.
I'd long since stopped feeling guilty...as far as Edie was concerned, I was just a pervert who asked her to do gross and sadistic things, all the time. She had no idea that she was actually sucking my cock.
Part of me wondered what she
did
think was happening, but I'm not one to mess with a good thing. I came into her mouth, had her "clean her master", and sent her on her way. She had an hour to get my washing done before Mom got home, and I certainly didn't want to risk Mom catching my sister with her panties off.
Turning back to the computer, I set the first few thousand dollars to transfer into my bank account, and opened up my program.
Somewhere in here was the reason that Edie would only obey my sexual commands. I had to find it.
Not, I should add, that I was complaining - if I had to only pick one kind of command to be obeyed, sexual would be my first, second, third and fourth choice...but the secret to making a thousand times more money than my sister's porn site could ever bring in was in the code somewhere, and I was determined to find it.
###
Two hours later, I sat back, exhausted. Edie had changed back into her "around the house" clothes (which, ever since I'd first influenced her, was a short skirt and midriff-baring top), Mom had gotten home, and I was no closer to a solution. As much as I hated to, I had to admit - it was time to stop looking at the code and start experimenting instead. It was the only way I was going to work out what had happened.
"Edie," I said to my sister after Mom had left the house, the second machine in my hand. "I want you to crawl on hands and knees to my bedroom, then kneel in front of me, ready to serve my cock."
I could have just asked her to come into my room. And, once upon a time, she would have done so. But after weeks of crude and (to her) inexplicable commands, endlessly unanswered, she sullenly ignored me whenever possible. And, as mentioned, the second machine only worked if the commands were sexual.
Striding from the room, I could hear her loudly complaining about my language, and a glance over my shoulder confirmed that she was obeying my commands. Her top was already off, and in a few seconds I knew that her skirt would join it.
A few minutes later, she crawled into the room. She almost looked surprised upon seeing me, but just rolled her eyes and tried to pretend I wasn't there, even as she knelt before me.
Leaning forward, I hefted one of her heavy breasts.
"Piss off," she snapped, slapping my hand away. I'd considered adding a command that any part of her was mine to touch as I wished, but I'd decided against it. After a few seconds pause, she unwittingly (and unwillingly) added "...master."
"What," I asked nonchalantly, "are you doing?"
She rolled her eyes and again tried to ignore me, but I grabbed her face and turned it towards mine. I wanted to know what was running through her head as she unknowingly obeyed my orders - it could be the key to understanding why she would only obey me when my demands were sexual in nature.
"Nothing, master" she spat. "I'm just trying to have a night off, but my
asshole
brother won't leave me alone."
My hand hovered over my mind-erasing machine: I knew that there was a chance that my next few questions would undo all of my hard work - that confronting her complete lack of self-awareness would erase my commands - and as much as I wanted to know what was going on, I certainly didn't want to give up my cum-dumpster sister in the process.
I'd disabled the second machine - this conversation was happening without me controlling her brainwaves. I could have told her to suck my cock and she'd have just glared at me. This was just her and me, no mind control involved.
"Why are you naked?" I asked, and she again rolled her eyes. "Edie, tell me that, and I'll leave you alone for a month."
I had no intention of leaving her alone, but it succeeded in catching her attention. She glanced down at herself, and a confused look came upon her face.
"I..." she answered, her brow furrowed. "I..."
I immediately wished that I'd hooked her up to my brainwave-reader before asking her the question, but before I could work out how to make "put this on your head" a sexual command, she blinked, and her eyes went blank.
"Edie?" I asked, and she looked at me, irritated, as if noticing me in the room for the first time.
"What?"
###
After hooking her up to the reader, I repeated the experiment several times. It was almost beautiful to watch, like a dance - when I asked her to acknowledge what she was doing, her brainwaves spiked, peaked, and then flatlined. It was like the brain simply couldn't accept the reality of what it was doing, and so it completely rejected it.
I was utterly fascinated, and more curious than I'd ever been in my life.
"Edie," I asked, for the fifth time, "what are you wearing right now?"
"I...the..."
As she looked down at herself, I glanced over at the reader. Subtle variations in the question didn't affect the outcome. Spike, peak, flatline. I turned back to my sister, who was glaring at me as if I'd never spoken.
"Edie," I asked, "touch your bra."
Her hand came into contact with her breast, and without even looking at her monitor, I could tell exactly the same pattern had occurred. Her face looked bewildered, then worried, then...nothing.
"Edie," I said, a thought appearing in my head, "turn me on by describing what you're wearing."
"I'm naked, master."