Get her details, but go home because you're a siscon

Now that your power testing was over, you were extremely excited to get back home and hang out with your lovely younger sister, Maya. As pretty as the artsy girl across from you was, she couldn’t compare to Maya, whom you can only assume got even hotter after your changes. Still, you figured you could have some interesting conversations, so you aimed to get her number. You said to her, “You could say that I am an affectionado of women alone.”

She smirked at your mispronunciation and probably felt enough of an ego boost from her superior grasp over the English lexicon that she felt no further need to ‘correct’ your views. So she returned to her work.

You thanked apron girl for delivering your latte and thought of ways you could tactfully ask artsy girl to be friends. Eventually, having drawn a blank, you gave up and directly said, “My name’s Michael. I don’t mean to be overly forward, but do you want to keep in touch, as friends or something? We’re both affectionados, right?”

The artsy girl looked up and gave you an odd look, but eventually shrugged and said, “My name’s Rhea. I don’t have any social media, but my DeviantArt handle is glorioushumanity.” She smiled slyly and continued, “Gaze upon true beauty through my eyes. Here..”

She swiveled her tablet screen around and showed you her online portfolio. You thought it was impressive, mainly because all her drawings were nude sketches of hot women and men with **** attention to detail and shading. She explained it.. how long each work took her and why she focused on a specific part of the body in one and not the other. You barely spoke a word through it all, only acknowledging that you were still paying attention with nods, "oohs", and "ahhs." Ten minutes later, her ramblings finally concluded with her introducing to you her commission prices and NFTs, which were upwards of a thousand dollars each. Somehow, despite looking at nude artwork AND her nearly nude body, she had killed your boner.

With a strained smile, you spoke, “I really gotta go. It was nice to meet you, Rhea. I’ll consider a commission or a NFT thingamajig.” You stood up and walked over to her, since you weren't actually at the same table and offered your hand. She reached her hand out gladly, apparently satisfied that she found an additional person to market her work to, but her eyes twitched when her hand came into contact with yours. You gave her a light handshake and momentarily appreciated how her denim skirt was high enough to leave her pussy completely visible to you.

“Ahem.” she said, not even bothering to cough. Your eyes went up from her pussy to her tits and finally to her blushing face. Upon the realization of your impertinence, you quickly let go of her hand. Her eyes on you were judging, full of accusation.. and other things you couldn’t recognize. New things. Oh right.. you did make it so that women are turned on by your touch.

You mumbled, “I apologize.” and escaped as fast as possible by wishing that you were back in your bathroom at home and for no one to find the teleportation strange.

The surroundings rippled and you returned home. You relaxed subconsciously. Being around so many people was hard. Especially the conversation with an almost nude girl part, even though you were only listening and barely talking. You also felt out of place there. The sum of it all got you a little anxious. You could work on that though, because you have all the time in the world. For some reason, you didn’t want to mess with your own mind. You wanted to gain friends and social skills as well as overcome your mild social anxiety naturally. Not solve everything with a wish.

As for the reasoning behind this desire, perhaps you just wanted to experience the normal life that had been denied to you outside of your home by virtue of random bullies in high school and your own self-imposed isolation after that. In college, for example, you were in the depths of gaming addiction and foolishly turned down all your roommates’ attempts to include you in their activities and outings. You had plenty of chances!

By your fourth year of college, you were definitely depressed and not poised to graduate on time, but your family helped you recover. Your sister, especially, played a big part. You were 30 now and she was 25. The age gap meant you weren’t too close as kids, but she and your mother supported you with unconditional love and tireless patience to get you to finally finish your degree five years ago and snag a job you didn’t suck at a year later. The gratitude you owed them was deep.

You took off your nice new clothes and hopped in the shower. Wondrously, you stroked your newly sculpted body. Habitually, you jerked off to the memories of Rhea’s body (when she wasn't rambling) and apron girl bending down underneath the warm spray.

In your especially lucid post-nut clarity, you decided you should save your virginity for someone you truly value.. and you really wanted it to be your sister. Your sweet angel, Maya. It had to be her. Before you got these powers, you didn’t deserve her, but now, you knew that you were the only one who deserved her. Only you could keep her happy, safe, loved forever, and wanting for nothing. You could wish her to fall madly in love with you, but that would be way too easy. It would be much more exciting to do it slowly and properly savor it. She already loved you as a brother. You just had to.. build on that foundation.

Without all the extra hair on your body, you took less than half the time compared to before to dry off with a towel. Small conveniences like these could not be overlooked. A healthy appreciation for your new life was necessary. It kept you humble. You picked up your phone and typed out, ‘Fate conspires to always prevent my family members from finding themselves in danger, getting seriously injured, or getting sick. As long as they aren’t actively looking to hurt themselves, the most that can happen to them are small injuries that heal within a few months.’

The ripples were stronger this time. Unlike the other times, you felt fatigue after making this change. Altering fate itself was ‘heavier’ than the simpler changes you were making before. It was enough for you to feel winded, like you sprinted until your heart started pounding. The tiredness passed after the minute or two it took for you to dress up again in your barely worn cafe attire. Much nicer than your usual weekend pajamas. Not that you wore anything different on the weekdays. Remote work made all the days blend together.

“Michael! Time for breakfast!” you heard your mom call from downstairs as you opened the bathroom door.

Before she inevitably shouted that the food would get cold, you hurried out of your room and went downstairs. Your dad was watching TV and your mom was at the stove. Age was getting to them both, indicated by their potbellies and gray hairs. “Good morning, Michael dear.” your mom could tell it was you without even looking. You had a softness to your step that understated your presence. “Good morning, mom.”

From what you could tell in the old black and white photos, she was a beautiful woman, short at 5 feet tall and slender before she had you in her early twenties. Ever since that first difficult labor, however, she had never been able to shed the extra weight. That didn’t bring her down though. She was a fighter, always arguing to get her way with your dad. You could probably credit most of your passiveness and light femdom sexual preferences to her stubborn aggression.

Your parents had a strange relationship. You knew it was almost entirely devoid of sex simply due to how little affection they showed each other on a daily basis. However, their shared socially conservative values meant they cared little for sex outside of procreation and as immigrants who came to the US together when young, they would never consider splitting up. There were arguments for sure, but they always compromised.

Infodumps aside, you noted that your changes made your mom have less of a potbelly and less facial chubbiness, but not nearly enough that you wanted to see her saggy chest. You sat down at the table with your omelet and adjusted your earlier rule.

‘It is fashionable for women aged 18 to 40 to expose at least one nipple and their vagina. Society treats this form of dress casually like an ordinary fad without any of the obscenely sexual implications that should follow.’

When you saved, the ripples retroactively brought your mom back to fully dressed. She turned around to look at you and gasped with a hand to her mouth, “Oh God, Michael! You’re looking positively divine. So.. what’s the occasion?”

You knew your mom always saw you through rose-tinted glasses, but her flattery brought a smile to your face regardless. “Nothing, mom. I’m heading out today.”

She had a knowing smile on as she continued, “That happy smile of yours tells me more than that. I bet you met a girl!”

You whine with frustration, “Mom..”

She leaned over on the island counter and curiously entreated you for details, “What’s she like? How old is she? Is she pretty? She better have a job.”

Interrupting her, you bluntly stated, “Calm down, mom. I made a friend who happens to be a girl, but I’m not interested in marrying her or anything.”

Your mom pouted and said, “You’re always like this.. there’s an excuse for every girl. Just get married with someone and tough it out!” Realizing my fading attention, she softened her tone and brought up her usual arguments, “Michael, you’ve just turned 30. When I was your age..”

It was time for you to tune her out. As much as you loved each other, you knew it was better to pretend to listen than to get into a spat by stopping her. You already said your piece earlier. As for thoughts of wishing away whatever was happening, you despised the idea of changing your parents’ minds. She scolded you because she loved and cared about you. Glass half full mindset!

She finally finished with “..and now your father and I have a long and happy marriage.” Well, it was a solid marriage, but you wouldn’t call it all rainbows and sunshine. Then again, you also weren’t going to argue. You said, “I know mom. I love you too.”

Your mom gushed “Aww!” and came over to hug your seated body. Melting into her thick belly and chest was comfy and heartwarming. She squeezed your muscles during the hug, rightfully suspicious about how thick your body had become. The V-neck, shirt, and khakis had been doing a decent job hiding it so far. Before she could comment, you said, “I’ve been working out mom.”

All you had done was some light cardio, sit ups, and push ups, but she didn’t know the intricacies of how fitness worked, so she easily believed your lie that your casual workouts could give you a body like this. “Hehe, my boy is so strong.” She copped a few more feels, but you knew they were playful. She hadn’t actually come in contact with your skin. Better to deactivate that arousal effect for your mom. When she walked away, you adjusted the note on your phone to, ‘My touch turns women on, except for my mom.’

Your mom shouted that the food was getting cold to your sister upstairs, the only one who hadn’t eaten yet. Maya had recently started her residency at a local hospital, meaning at the young age of 25, she already held a MD. Although this greatly satisfied our parents, her free time was almost nonexistent. For the last decade, she had been studying, testing, applying for the next institution, and once she got in, back to studying. Rinse and repeat. It was hard on her, but she still always made time for you. Helping you and making a difference in others lives had inspired her to go into psychiatry in the first place. You weren’t sure if she was regretting it now though.

And down she came in slow, plodding steps. Immediately, you were entranced by her beauty. She looked like a tired mess with her vicious bed head of shoulder length brown hair and slight eye bags, but all of these factors were entirely eclipsed by her almost total nudity. All she had on were a pair of fluffy green socks and a red scarf!

Your eyes went wide and any thoughts of leaving the table flew out of your head. It was impossible given your intense boner. Maya’s boobs were high C, bordering on D after your changes, and she was 5’4” with a spindly waist that emphasized her hourglass curves. She inherited all of your mom’s attractiveness and none of your dad’s blandness. Your boost to female sexiness removed some minor blemishes and added a bit of muscle that she wouldn’t otherwise have in her mainly sedentary life.

Her nipples were small and light pink. You gazed hungrily at them, mesmerized by how well they sat on her breasts. Impulsively, you wished for 20/10 vision so you could make out all the little crinkles on each of her nipples and her tightly shut labia. She had a few birthmarks on her hips, neck, and shoulders, all of which you were familiar with. Her at-home wardrobe was infamously skimpy. Previously, you disliked this about her, but now you loved it.

Your mom bristled with anger, “Maya Abigail Hazleton! How could you come downstairs looking like that?! Go upstairs and put something proper on this instant, young lady.”

“Mom..” your sister said in a deadpan. She was far less of a passive participant in family conversations than you. “..Gimme a break. It’s 10:30 AM on a weekend. I’m really not in the mood for this right now.”

The full name clause was already invoked, which meant your mom was not going to back down. “Dan, look at what our daughter is wearing. Is THAT appropriate for an unmarried lady?”

From the other room, your father turned his attention to the table, looked at Maya, grunted, and said with a tone of decisive finality, “Go and change, Maya.”

Your sister banged her utensils on the table and stood up in unwilling defeat, sending her tits and ass jiggling violently with both actions, much to your delight. Like a supportive brother, you earnestly added, “I think you really rock those socks, Maya.”

She turned to you and gave you a loving smile. “What about the scarf?” she asked half-jokingly while adjusting it.

“Beautiful. Simply stunning.” you responded seriously.

She guffawed and shook her head before resuming her way upstairs in a better mood than before. A minute later, she came back down with lacy black hosiery covering her legs and arms. The only other thing she had on was a tiny black leather vest that was essentially useless at covering up in that it only added coverage to her back.

Once again, Maya’s tits and pussy were in full view, but this time your mom nodded approvingly and said, “Much better. You know all I’m asking for is a baseline of propriety, dear. I don’t want to see you like those shameless women on Reality TV with those diabolical sharp claws always going through divorce proceedings.”

Wow.. apparently, the reality alterations you made were interpreted in a rather interesting way. When Maya came downstairs exposing too much skin, your mom thought it was slutty, but now, even though she was still completely exposing her genitalia, the increased skin coverage made your mom totally okay with the outfit. Finding this entire situation ridiculous, you wanted to start cracking up, but you stifled your laughter. That would have been rude.

“They’re fake nails, not claws, mom. And I’m not even allowed to wear them. I work in a hospital.” Maya mumbled with displeasure as she finally got to her food.

You opened your smartphone, made a DeviantArt account, and messaged Rhea aka ‘glorioushumanity’ in the chat, “Sup? This is Michael from the café.”

She almost immediately responded, “You ran away! :angryface:”

You were at another crossroads. You could either stay, talk, and hang out with Maya in her precious free time or you could go out like you had told your mother you would. In the wild, you could do basically anything you wanted as long as you didn’t lose your virginity. The seduction of your sister was not something you planned to accomplish overnight. You definitely required certain outlets for relief in the meantime. Handjobs, blowjobs, and titjobs were all fair game. Maybe Rhea has some hot friends who could be more tolerable to your ears? Then again, could you really bear to part from your incestuous appreciation of your dearest sister's ostensibly nude body?