Stick with your first choice.

You hold fast to your original decision and approach the house.

You picked this house for a very specific reason: it belongs to Holly's mother, Jolene Anderson (formerly Jolene Potter, before she married Holly's father). You've seen photos of Jolene, and even spent a few evenings getting yourself off to thoughts of what she would look like in various forms of undress. As you feel the excitement rising, you ring the doorbell, using your ability in the time it takes the door to open: Jolene will believe whatever I tell her without question. "Kabam!"

The woman who answers the door is not Jolene. In fact, she looks a bit like Holly, and it only takes you a moment to realize that this is Rachel, Holly's older sister. She eyes you for a moment before asking, "Can I help you?" in a tone that gives you the feeling the answer is, "no."

You smile politely anyway. "Hi, I'm John Doe and I'm here to see Jolene. Is she in?"

Rachel laughs at this, but her laugh has no humor in it. She gives you an eerily familiar look of disdain. Yes sir, she's Holly's sister alright. "She's not here. Fuck off, creep." Without allowing you a chance to respond, she shuts the door, leaving you alone on the front porch.

You start to wonder if Holly's entire family has this attitude problem, and you begin formulating a command for your word. Rachel is intent on being the best possible host to whomever I deem a guest of hers. She will happily do whatever it takes to please that person, regardless of how she would otherwise feel about it. "Kabam!" You ring the doorbell again.

It doesn't take as long for Rachel to answer the door this time, and she is visibly upset upon seeing that you haven't taken her advice and fucked off. "Didn't you hear me the first time, loser?" she demands. "Go away!"

You manage to catch your shoe in the doorway before she can close it, this time, and this catches her off-guard. "I'm a guest here, Rachel," you tell her, simply. "Let me inside."

Rachel's eyes go wide and she steps aside, raising her hands to her mouth. "Oh my God!" she cries, "I'm so sorry! Please, come in! Can I get you anything?" You step inside and look around. The house looks nicer on the inside than you had expected.

"I'll let you know," you reply. "What are you doing at your mom's place?" You eye Rachel as she answers, comparing her to her sister. Her chest is about the same size, maybe a bit smaller, and she's taller than Holly. Instead of Holly's loose curls, Rachel has a long, straight ponytail, though they share the same golden blonde color.

"I live here," comes Rachel's eager reply. She no longer seems cautious of or annoyed by you. "What do you need with my mom?"

"Well, I'm in the market for a house," you explain, taking off your shoes and leaving them in the middle of the floor, "and I've always been a fan of this one. Mind you, I'll still be your guest, even after I buy the house."

"Of course," she replies, as though that were the most obvious thing, putting your shoes on a nearby shelf as she replies, "but I don't think she's looking to sell."

You offer the poor girl a chuckle. "Oh, I'm sure I can persuade her. When will she be home?"

Rachel's smile falls and she stares at her feet. "She's... home right now. I kind of lied when I told you she wasn't. I'm sorry!" She dares a glance at your eyes, then goes back to looking at her shoes, genuinely distraught.

You help yourself to a seat on the couch and make a clicking sound with your tongue. "It's not good to lie, Rachel. Luckily for you, I'm a little spent at the moment, so I won't be punishing you with rough anal or anything like that." You give a heartless laugh at her surprised reaction to this, then hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Rachel, who was it?" a female voice asks, and you see a girl about Rachel's age step into view. Her red hair is in a pixie cut and she's much more petite than Rachel.

"Who's this lovely thing, Rachel?" you ask, taking in an eyeful.

Now avoiding eye contact with either of you, Rachel replies, "This is my girlfriend, Morgan." She finally looks at the other girl, her brow furrowed in what you suppose is silent apology. Rachel is already well aware of what you might have her do, and she knows she wouldn't dream of stopping you.

"Pleasure to meet you, Morgan," you say with a wave. "I'm John Doe. We were just talking about Rachel's bad habit of lying. For example, has she ever told you that I'm her boyfriend of seven years?"

"Yeah right," said Morgan, but she looked to Rachel for affirmation.

"Tell her, Rachel," you instruct.

Rachel brightens at this, her happiness at pleasing a guest easily overpowering the shame she would normally feel for toying with her lover. Morgan sees her smile and falters as Rachel speaks: "I'm sorry I never brought him up, Morgan. This is John, my boyfriend."

"There, see?" you say as Morgan stares in shock. Given a couple of minutes, she'd likely sort her thoughts out and begin yelling, possibly throwing things. You won't let it get that far, though. "It's always better to be honest. Tell you what, Rachel: to reward your big step in the right direction, I'll give you a gift: Morgan, there, is now yours to command. She'll do, say, think, and believe whatever you want her to. Kabam!"

Morgan opens her mouth and finally manages to utter, "Rachel?" as though she needs further confirmation.

"Rachel, be a dear and have her wait, quietly, while I decide what to do with her," you instruct.

Rachel nods and faces her girlfriend. "Morgan, honey, have a seat and don't speak for a while." Morgan's mouth closes with an audible click and she sits in an armchair to your right. Though she doesn't move or speak, she glares at you and Rachel, tears forming in her eyes.

"Rachel," you say, with what's only partially feigned irritation, "she's glaring, and she's going to begin crying. Please fix this."

"Of course!" Rachel says, happy to manipulate her lover for your benefit. "Morgan, honey, stop being upset. If anything, you're happy to have learned this about me." Like magic, Morgan's expression changes to entertained curiosity, her scowl bending into a small smile.

"Much better," you tell your host. "So you two are lesbians, eh? Ever been with a man?"

Rachel shakes her head. "Nope, neither has Morgan."

"Well," you muse, "I'm sure the two of you'll get the hang of it pretty quickly. At the moment, however, I would like to introduce myself to your mother. Would you be a dear and call her in here?"

Rachel is more than happy to assist, and she hurries off, soon returning trailing the woman you expected to meet all along. When you see Jolene, you're almost floored - she's easily as beautiful as she was in the oldest photo you've seen of her, despite being ten years older. Her hips sway almost unconsciously as she follows her daughter into the living room, and her breasts still have quite a bit of bounce inside her teal blouse. She moves with such grace that the glass of red wine in her right hand is hardly disturbed.

"Is this a friend of yours, Rachel?" Jolene asks, looking at you without bothering to hide her mild disdain. _Yep, _you muse, it runs in the family alright.

"Pleasure to meet you," you say, standing and extending your hand. "I'm John Doe."

She glances at your hand, then slowly back to your eyes. "Doe? Are you related to Karen Doe?"

"She's my mother," you explain, lowering your hand. "And she changed her name when she married your ex."

"Is that why you're here?" Jolene asks. "Because Dylan decided she wanted something else from me?"

She? You raise your eyebrows as realization hits you. "Oh shit," you manage to say through a bout of shocked laughter, "his name didn't change?"

Jolene just looks at you, disdain now sharing space on her expression with confusion.

"Never mind," you say, composing yourself. "No, I'm not here on Dylan's behalf." You open your mouth to continue, when an idea strikes you and you grin devilishly. "You can stop pretending, baby," you tell Jolene, to the shock of every woman in the room. "They already know that we've been dating since I turned eighteen, and you do a poor job of hiding your endless infatuation with me. You've always been a horrible liar."

Jolene's shock fades to a sweet smile and she pulls you in for a lover's embrace while Rachel and Morgan stare, slack-jawed. Jolene does not kiss you, though, and it's clear that she's self-conscious around her daughter. "I'm sorry, John," she says, before pulling away to look you lovingly in the eyes, "it's been a long day already." She glances at a nearby clock, which reads 10:12. "Speaking of which, shouldn't you still be at school?"

"I took the day off," you tell her. "I know how horny it makes you you when I play hooky, and I wanted to come tell you about your new gift."

"Gift?" she asks with a raised eye, as her cheeks begin to flush. She looks you over, eyes pausing for a moment at your groin before returning to meet your own. "What gift?"

"Well I remember you telling me that, while you'd never dream of being with any man but me, you would really like a couple of women around the house as your sex slaves."

"What?" Jolene cries, looking at Rachel and Morgan. She breaks into embarrassed, stuttered laughter. "That's ridiculous! To think that I, Jolene Anderson, would want sex slaves!" Her face turns a deeper crimson as she fixes you with a "how could you tell them that?" stare.

"It's fine that they know," you assure her. "They're the gift. It took me a while, but I finally convinced everyone who knows you that these two girls are your daughter, Rachel, and her girlfriend, Morgan. Only the four of us know that you don't actually have a daughter named Rachel."

Jolene stares at her daughter, shock causing much of of the crimson to fade from her cheeks. "So these two girls are my sex slaves?"

"Yes they are," you tell her with a grin and a wink at a very awe-struck Rachel. "I thought it funny that you're so prudish that you won't sleep with or even kiss me, but you want two sex slaves." You shrug. "I did have three complications, however. Morgan only does what Rachel tells her to, and Rachel only obeys people that I tell her are guests in this house."

"What's the third complication?" Jolene asks, eyes fixed on Rachel as she steps closer.

"Well, the third one involves you," you say, sheepishly, "but I assure you you'll be just fine with my workaround for it."

Now Jolene does turn to look at you. "What did you do to me, John Doe?" she asks, accusingly.

You hold up your hands in defense. "You had been made to happily obey every command that Rachel gives you," you explain, "but I managed to reduce it to only things that include the word, 'clean.'"

Jolene's glare melts into a smile. "Thank you for looking out for me, baby." She gives you a hug and leans her head on your shoulder before standing and pulling away. "But you know I could just tell her, as her guest, not to tell me to do anything."

"You could," you agree, surprised that you hadn't thought of that, "but every time you try, you'll instead attempt to seduce her until she lets you get two knuckles deep into her, thinking until that point that she's your daughter."

Her eyes go wide again as her roller coaster of emotion continues. "Why would you do that to me? You said there was only the one thing!"

You cock a quizzical eyebrow at her. "Do what? I didn't say anything."

Jolene mimics your confused expression. "Oh. I'm sorry, baby." She gives you another hug. "This really is an amazing gift."

"It's only fair," you tell her, "after you agreed to sell the house to me at whatever price I choose."

"Right!" she says, eyes lit with recollection. "When do you want to go over the paperwork?"

"I have a person for that. I'll introduce you to her later this week. I just want to preface right now that no matter what your five senses or anyone else tells you, I am completely loyal to you. You trust me so much not to look at, touch, or interact with anyone but you in a romantic or sexual way that you aren't even capable of noticing it when it happens in front of you."

Jolene's smile softens as she realizes she really does trust you implicitly. "Are you going to stay for lunch?"

"I might," you tell her. You approach Rachel and whisper into her ear while grabbing her tits as Jolene serenely watches, oblivious to the attention your hands are giving her daughter. "Make her blow me while ignoring what we say," you tell Rachel. "Be sure to use the magic word." You then sit back on the sofa.

Rachel nods and says, "Mom, clean John's cock with your mouth until he comes, and ignore everything else."

Jolene maintains her sweet smile as she follows you to the sofa. She undoes your fly in a flash and yanks your pants and shorts down. Your cock already stiffening, she licks her lips and hungrily sucks it into her warm mouth.

You give a satisfied moan before looking at Rachel. "That's better. Why don't both of you come join her on either side?"

"Sure!" says Rachel, approaching. "Morgan, come help me and Mom give John a blowjob."

As Rachel and her girlfriend kneel on either side of her mother, you lay back and close your eyes. "See Rachel?" you ask. "I told you she'd see my way."