A trip to the bank.

"I would probably go to the bank and get my financials in order."

You roll your eyes. "Really? 'Go to the bank?' I can use my magic word to make myself the richest man in the world. Why would I need to go to the bank?"

She clicks her tongue as she takes you by the shoulders and leads you to the living room. "You might as well just use the word to fast forward to your dying day with an attitude like that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" you ask.

She points at your step-sister on the couch who, judging from the beads of sweat and the red color of her face, is well beyond her first orgasm. "You could have used your word to appear at school this morning without bothering to leave your bedroom. Because you didn't, you gave yourself that opportunity with Holly and now have me as your ****."

You stare at her, eyes wide. ****? Did she really just say that?

She gives a humored laugh. "I'm not stupid, John. Just because I'm okay with what you've done to me doesn't mean I haven't noticed. You stripped me of my ability to defy you, physically, mentally, and emotionally; that sounds like a **** to me. If you don't like it, you can always change me back." She shoots you a smile, confident that you like her just the way she is. "So, are you going to the bank?"

"Kabam!" Instantly, your body is cleaned, dressed, and refreshed. "Okay, I'm ready now."

"Holly, let's go!" calls your mother as she puts on her shoes. Your step-sister grumbles from the couch and stops playing with herself. She joins you and your mother, your jizz on her chest a bit runny from her sweat, but still very present and obvious, and the three of you pile into the minivan.

"Holly," you say as she climbs into the front passenger seat, "you should sit back here with me."

"Eat a dick, loser," she says.

"Holly!" exclaims your mother, and you're surprised at first to see a bit of her old self shine through. You realize that she is still her old self outside the house as far as everyone but you is concerned. "Be nice to your brother!"

"He's not my brother," she mutters as she buckles in.

Get back here and blow me until we reach the school. "Kabam!"

As the minivan begins to back down the driveway, Holly unbuckles her seat belt and climbs between the front seats to sit beside you.

"Holly! Sit back down!" cries your mother.

"It's okay," you tell her. "She's going to suck me off back here. Take your time getting to the school."

Karen visibly relaxes. "Okay, honey." Her focus turns to driving as your step-sister's focus turns to getting your cock out of your pants.

You relax as Holly gingerly licks the tip of your dick, and, with a shudder throughout your entire body, it swells to its full size as she embraces it with her warm, moist mouth. Despite your lack of experience in the field of oral sex, you get the feeling you're far from Holly's first blowjob. You grab her hair and watch as she closes her eyes, focusing solely on the task at hand. A couple times you feel like you're going to blow, unable to hold against the swirl of her tongue or the feeling of the back of her throat against your tip, but she backs off each time, clearly intent on making you hold out until you reach the school. You close your eyes, first catching a glimpse of your mother smiling at you in the mirror. You had no idea head could feel so good, and you're almost certain you'll never bother to jerk off again. Images of the morning's earlier activity flash in your head -- your step-sister frozen on the floor before you while you splattered her chest -- and you decide that maybe you'll determine each encounter conditionally.

You open your eyes some time later and see the school come into view and find you have enough mental capacity, despite the significant blood flow downstairs, to form a plan for Holly.

Finish me off before we stop. "Kabam!"

Let me come in your mouth, then dribble it down your chest. Once you leave the van, you'll forget that you blew me, and believe this load appeared just like the last. "Kabam!"

Everyone at school who sees the come on Holly's chest will find it as normal as she does and will make passes at her. No one but Holly will find this behavior unusual. The more people hit on Holly, the more she will want me to fuck her. "Ka- Oh fuck!" You grunt as you blow into your step-sister's mouth, and you swear for a moment that you hear a low moan from the front of the van. You buck into Holly's face as her cheeks puff out, swollen by the liquid now inside. As you zip up your pants and watch your seed cascade from Holly's mouth onto her chest and soak into her light blue top, you say, "Kabam," with a grin, the word little more than a whisper.

Holly blinks and then her eyes go wide as she looks at you in horror. "What-- What did I..." She makes a retching sound and rips open the side door to the minivan as though she's going to vomit. As soon as her foot hits the pavement of the school's drop-off zone, her composure shifts and she stands up straight, no longer upset. She takes her backpack and smiles at your mother. "Thanks for the ride, Karen!" She shoots a glare at you. "You coming, loser?"

You wave her off, shifting to hide the already swelling tent in your pants. "I'm not feeling good today. Mom's taking me to the doctor."

Holly looks to your mother for verification, and the woman behind the wheel raises her eyebrows. "Oh!" she exclaims, catching on. "Yes, it's probably just a cold, but I don't want to risk getting the rest of the kids sick."

"Gross," says Holly. "Glad I sat up front. I'll see you tonight." She turns to leave for the school.

"Bye Holly!" calls your mother. She smiles lovingly at you as you climb into the front seat. "That poor girl's going to be late for class," she offers, more of a point of small talk than concern.

You glance at the clock. "You're late, too."

Another smile as she drives beyond the school grounds, toward the bank. "That's okay. I figured I'd be playing chauffeur at least until you find someone else to drive you."

"Do you like your job?" you ask her. "I mean, I could make it so you never have to work again."

She thinks for a moment, the van's engine and the sound of the town rushing by the only noise. "I do like it. If they don't fire me for my attendance today, I'd like to keep working there."

"That can be arranged," you tell her. "Want to do the honors?"

She spares a glance at you. "What do you mean?"

You shrug. "Just tell me how you want to manage to keep your job. I'll make it happen."

She thinks for a much longer moment, and doesn't reply until the two of you have reached the bank. You figure you'll take her cash and head inside once she responds. "I get the feeling you're going to have me breaking a lot of rules at work. So..." she pauses, probably to make sure she has her wording right. "I want to be rewarded instead of punished for everything I do that's against the rule. Proportionally, of course, so that bigger violations yield larger rewards. And I want everyone to like me more and more with every rule I break."

You grin. Your mother has a wicked side you never knew about! That wish is now true. "Kabam! There, it's done."

She gives you a hug and a peck on the cheek. "You're such a good boy." She gives you another kiss, this one landing on your lips. Stunned, you freeze, and she lingers for a moment before pulling away. "Oops, that was improper, wasn't it? I'm sorry." She starts to blush.

You snap out of your shock and look at your mother, realizing that you never really appreciated how wonderful she is, then put a hand on hers. "You have nothing to apologize for." She can keep her money, you decide as you open your door. She deserves it.

She shuts off the engine and asks, "Do you want me to come in with you?"

"No," you reply, "I'll find a ride home. Have fun at work; I'll text you if I need you." You leave the van, oblivious to the devilish grin that spreads across her face.

You walk toward the bank just as a woman about your mother's age is leaving. Her long, red curls bounce as she walks, and her chest, does the same in her gray Led Zeppelin tee-shirt. "Kabam!" The woman approaches you while pulling her clutch from her purse. She gives you a stack of bills and then continues walking with no recollection of interacting with you.

As you walk into the bank, counting the bills and finding that the redhead had given you eight hundred dollars, you set the stage While I'm in the bank, anyone to whom I introduce myself by first and last name will become completely subject to my suggestions. "Kabam!"

At the moment, all three tellers are busy with customers and there is a line of six people before you. You step in line anyway; with this much power, you can stand to be patient.

As luck would have it, however, a woman steps out from a side door and announces, "I can help anyone who just needs to make a deposit."

Perfect, you think as you step toward the woman, extending your hand as you close in. She shakes it immediately. Gotta love professionalism. "Hi," you say aloud, "I'm John Doe."

"Donna Coffield. Please, come in," says the curvy woman, leading you inside the office. She's not fat by any means; her weight is deposited in ways that simply accentuate all the right areas.

Especially her tits, you think, eyeing her white, ruffled blouse. Her red lipstick compliments her blonde hair quite well -- that red ring would look great around your dick. You find you're getting hard again just thinking about it. No one outside of Donna's office will notice anything that were to happen within her office to be unusual or objectionable, even if it were caught by camera or microphone.

"How can I help you, John?" she asks, politely, as she sits, visibly aware that you've been staring.

"Kabam! Well, for starters, I see that you're wearing fifteen coats. That must be very uncomfortable. Would you like to take them off before we continue?"

Donna blushes, embarrassed that she would make such a silly error. "Yes, if you don't mind. I guess I expected it to be cold this morning." She stands and pantomimes removing coats, fully believing that she's peeling off unnecessary layers. After she's gone through the process of removing the fictional coat and placing it on the back of her chair fifteen times, she sits back down.

"Yes, it is rather hot in here, isn't it?" you lead. "In fact, you're probably uncomfortable in all those clothes."

Donna gives a highly offended gasp. "How dare you?!"

You just smile. "You find nothing I say to be offensive, and you'll answer, without hesitation, any question I ask."

Donna calms instantly, her face reddening in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. Yes, it is rather warm in here."

"You're fine," you say in a soothing tone, "it was probably just the heat talking. Go ahead and take off your clothes. You'll feel perfectly comfortable naked, as long as you redress before leaving your office."

"Yes, of course," she agrees, finding your suggestion to be perfectly normal. She quickly slips out of her blouse and pants, then unhooks her bra and pulls her panties and stockings down, the bra falling from her shoulders as she's bent over. Naked, she returns to her seat. "That is so much better," she says with a great smile. "Thank you for that. Now what can I help you with?"

"Well, I've got some money to invest, and the best place for you to be while explaining the process to me would be sitting on the front of your desk, legs as wide apart as you can get them, don't you agree?"

"Absolutely," she says, her most professional smile spread over her face, "but I couldn't do that--you're sitting so close, and I wouldn't want to run the risk of accidentally touching you."

You revel in the hurdles that this woman's subconscious keeps throwing at you. "Tell you what; I will scoot my chair back and you can sit on the desk and talk. You will believe me to be in this chair until I snap my fingers, and will ignore anything to the contrary. How does that sound?"

Donna's smile falters only for a moment. "I'm sorry, but I still feel like it would be too close."

You raise your eyebrows -- she's a fighter. "Now you're perfectly comfortable sitting there, and you're even embarrassed that you were being so stubborn."

Donna blushes and puts a hand over her face. "Oh my God, I am so sorry. I don't know what my problem is today. Of course I'll sit there." She steps around the desk and pushes her things aside, then sits, legs spread a full one-eighty.

"Wow," you comment at her spread. "You're quite flexible. Are you married?"

"Yes, his name is Arthur. We've been married fifteen years."

"How does he feel about your flexibility?" As you ask, you stand and approach her.

"He loves it," she replies with a proud smile.

"How long have you known each other?"

"Seventeen years."

You place a hand on Donna's breast and notice no reaction. "What am I doing right now, Donna?"

Donna's professional smile grows a bit more warm. "You're sitting in that chair, near the wall, being a perfect gentleman."

"It would be perfectly normal and perfectly acceptable for me to touch you right now, wouldn't it?"

She nods. "Yes, of course it would."

"In fact, you'd like it, wouldn't you?"

Upon hearing that statement, she blushes and looks to the side. "I would, actually, yes."

You click the fingers on one hand, the other hand still rubbing her nipple.

She gasps in shock and your perceived sudden movement. "You were just sitting! How'd you get over here?"

"Don't worry about that," you tell her, now with both hands kneading her chest.

"Okay," she says, dreamily.

"Now what am I doing?"

"You're rubbing my breasts," she replies, a small moan of pleasure escaping her lips afterward.

"And do you like it?"

"Yes, it feels good."

"How did you meet your husband?"

"We bumped into each other in line at a coffee shop, actually. I guess you could say it was love at first sight."

You slip two fingers into Donna's pussy. "Donna, how often do you have sex?"

She draws in a sharp breath, but otherwise ignores you. "About twice a week."

"And would you say you're tight?"

"Absolutely. I do pelvic floor exercises every day."

"Great. Now, you know that you've all but ruined this meeting thus far, and you want my account more than anything else. Is that correct?"

Donna's eyes and smile fall. "Yes, I'm afraid it is. I'm so sorry, John. I'm not usually this off my game."

You wipe your moist fingers on Donna's face and sit. "You'll do anything to land my account, Donna, is that right?"

"Yes, absolutely," says Donna.

"Good. Now Donna, if you want my account, you're going to have to masturbate for me."

She blanches, then swallows and regains her composure. "Well, I guess if it's the only way for me to land the account." A hand gingerly slips over her clit and begins rubbing. "Is this good?" She asks, her face now beet red.

You shake your head. "I just don't believe that that's how you masturbate. You're probably the type of woman who shoves fingers and other things into her pussy and ass and loves to grope, pinch, and lick her tits, am I right?"

Donna continues to blush. "Yes, you are." She grabs a pen and pokes it into her pussy, then shoves two highlighters into her ass.

You smile. "That's good, but I'm surprised with how quiet you are. You're the type of woman who is incredibly sensitive when aroused, and can't help but screaming when masturbating, isn't that right?"

Donna begins to pant. "Yes, but how did you kn--aah ahh AHHHHH!" Her screams echo throughout the quiet bank, but no one so much as bats an eyelash. As far as everyone else is concerned, Donna screaming in the throes of passion is perfectly normal.

Still a bit paranoid, however, you can't help stealing glances outside the office to make sure nobody notices. At this time, you spot a gorgeous blonde with a high ponytail, sunglasses atop her head, and tight jeans that make her ass look simply amazing just leaving a teller's counter. You instruct Donna to continue, then chase the girl down.

"Excuse me, miss," you open, catching up. She turns around to see your outstretched hand. "My name is John Doe."

The woman shakes your hand. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," you reply, "you can. You find me so handsome, charming, and sexy that you would happily do anything I ask, isn't that right?"

The woman grows instantly enamored and can hardly contain her excitement. "Of course. What can I do for you, stud?"

"Follow me, lovely," you instruct, and she nearly swoons at the word. "Everything that happens inside that office there is perfectly normal, got it?"

"Oh, absolutely!" mewls the woman, sounding like a teenager in love. "Whatever you say, handsome!" She enters Donna's office and, though she suddenly notices Donna's actions, doesn't seem disturbed.

"What's she doing here?" demands Donna between breaths.

"I asked her to help you win me over," you answer. "I'm just the best, aren't I?"

Held deeply in the throes of arousal, she responds, "You...AHHH! You really are!"

"What's your name, lovely?" you ask your new assistant.

"Leah Stanley," she replies, eyeing you up and down.

"Well, Leah Stanley, I need you to pull down your pants and panties and stand at that end of the desk." You watch as Leah happily does as she was told. "Good. Now, Donna, you can stop masturbating. Get on your knees and face Leah." As Donna repositions herself on her desk, you ask, "Leah, do you have a smart phone?"

"Of course," says Leah. She pulls her phone from her purse and hands it to you, and you quickly turn on the video function and point the camera at Leah.

"Tell the folks at home who you are and what you want to do with them, dear." You wink and she takes the hint, giving the camera a big smile.

"Hi, everybody! My name is Leah Stanley and I want to fuck all of you! Girls too!"

You turn the camera to Donna, who rests on hands and knees, with her amazing tits hanging almost to the desk. "Donna, tell the folks at home who you are and why you're doing this."

"My name is Donna Coffield and I'm doing this because I absolutely have to land John's account, and I'll do whatever it takes."

"Leah, sit on the desk, dear. That's right, just like that. Now, Donna, I'll give you my account if you eat Leah here out, but there's a catch."

Donna looks more shocked than ever at what she is being asked to do while Leah just looks like she's having fun.

"A catch?"

"That's right. As you're well aware, you can't bring yourself to go down on Leah unless I'm fucking you in the ass, isn't that true?"

Dread fills Donna's face as she realizes the truth in your words. "Yes, it is," she says, hopelessly.

"Beg me to fuck you in the ass, Donna."

"Please fuck me in the ass, John. Please."

"Tell everyone at home that you're a horny slut and you need a cock in you."

Donna looks at the camera and swallows. "I'm...I'm a horny slut and I need a cock in me."

You stand behind Donna, phone in hand, camera facing Donna's bare back as you remove the office supplies from her holes. "Okay, Donna, I'm going to fuck you now, and you'll be able to go down on Leah. When you start, you'll find that my cock in your ass feels amazing and that Leah's pussy is the most wonderful thing you've ever tasted. Are you ready?"

"Please," is all she says.

Unexperienced is not the same as ignorant. You know just how much damage you can do if you just go all gung ho up her hind end. You could use your word to make it work or fix it afterward, sure, but there's no need. A few pumps in her dripping pussy is all you need to prep your johnson for its trip down the ol' numero dos. You slip your dick into Donna's ass and wiggle your way up until your pelvis is slapping her glutes. Once your rhythm begins, you set down the phone under Donna's chest so the camera can see her gorgeous tits swinging like two pendulums. Metronomes, really, you realize, as their weight add to your own inertia and help you keep time. You come after a few minutes and, soon, so do Donna and Leah.

After drying your dick on Donna's hair, (using your word to make sure neither of you get some disease from any shit your cock may have picked up), you grab the phone once more and point the camera at Donna. "Congratulations, Donna. You have my account." With that, you stop recording and hand the phone to Leah. You use your magic word to ensure that anyone who watches that video will show three other people. Since it happened in Donna's office, no one will find it tasteless or offensive. "Leah," you tell the girl, "I need a driver. Go wait in your car and come pick me up when I leave."

"Yes, sir," she says, then shares a kiss with you. You watch as she pulls on her panties and pants, then leaves the bank to wait for you.

Alone with your banker, you turn to Donna, still on all fours and raise her chin with a finger. "How do you feel about what just happened, my pet?"

Donna dismounts the desk, her face sorrowful but not upset. "It felt wonderful, but I feel so guilty having done that to Arthur...How will I ever show my face to him?"

You reach to cup Donna's breast and she pulls away, covering herself with her arms. You smile. "Donna, you don't have to feel guilty for anything that happened here today or for anything that happens between us in the future. It's all perfectly normal and acceptable, do you understand?"

Donna relaxes and her arms fall. "Yes, I do," she says with a smile. "Thank you for explaining it to me. I feel so much better." She sighs as you do caress her chest this time, enjoying your attention. "Are we going to have to hide this from Arthur, though?"

"You let me worry about that," you instruct her. "Now have a seat behind your desk."

Donna sits and you produce your eight hundred dollars. "I'm giving this to you, and you're going to invest it as wisely as possible. As long as you're putting my financial needs before any of your own needs, you will know how best to invest not only my money, but also your own." You use your word to make it true. "Ten percent of the overall profit my money makes will go directly to you; I'll let you handle the paperwork." Another use of the word ensures she can sign for you for all financial documents without anyone objecting.

Donna takes the money, and you can practically see ideas for it popping into her head. "Absolutely," she says, eager to serve you. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Go about your day. If you want to keep working here, go for it. If not, then do as you please. Myself, I'm going to have a little more fun. Any suggestions where to start?"

"Oh!" she says, "Why don't you..."