Not before you ask Bunny.

Your brother still presses himself against you, snuggling close to keep comfortable. You aren’t able to pull out without stirring him or waking him up. You aren’t too fond of the idea that your cum-filled bunny boy would get upset at you. How must you go about this? Would he even register being asked right now? It never hurts to try at least.

Leaning close and whispering into his ear, you ask, “Would you rather be able to absorb my cum or have a butt-plug to keep it inside of you?”

His half-asleep response answers you in a another whisper, “Mm-butt plug. I like how it feels.”

An object you’d never beheld before pops into your palm. You don’t need to see it to know what it is. You move just slightly away, enough to press the rounded tip against where your shaft still fills him and his rim. A bit faster than you aught have, you pull your cock out and slip the plug in it’s place. He moans, clenching down, but the moan drifts into a whine when he doesn’t feel you behind him.

“Where are you going?”

“Just to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

He shuffles and rolls over to face you.

“Better be.”

You chuckle as he stuffs his nose into the pillow where you had just been. You move to the bathroom before his cute display can invoke other results.

Your bathroom isn’t too spectacular. Nothing is out of place or broken. You have a half full laundry basket in the corner, but aside from that nothing’s even dirty. Yet. But cleanliness isn’t your main concern. The mirror is.

Looking into the eyes of yourself, you see a flicker of gold behind the normal blue you’ve never seen before. You’d find it peculiar if it wasn’t so cool. Welp, here goes nothing.

You look into your own eyes and ask the mirrored you, “Would you rather be able to fuck anyone you want, whenever you want, and however you want, or not?”

Nothing seems to happen at first, but the mirror doesn’t hold back on you. The glass waves, like someone had turned it into a liquid. It ripples and changes, your reflection grabbing your attention outright. In a weird sort of conversation, your reflection answers you, and in your own thoughts no less.

“The point of the question was to see if this works the way I had thought or not. Strangely it does. So I figure if I can ask myself anything, at least in the same format, then I can make anything possible. That being said, I’ll gladly start off by being able to fuck whoever I want”, you answer yourself.

No alteration or feeling wells up inside this time around. Perhaps you’ll simply become more persuasive than before. You’ll find out soon enough. Though, if you’re being honest, and you very rarely lie, you want to answer a few more questions. It feels nice to be on the receiving end every now and then.

Your reflection knows more than you do seemingly, some fragment of your consciousness personified. It has yet to return to its original stance.

“What’s next on the agenda?”

“Would you rather be a shapeshifter, or an incubus?”