What happened to Emily?

That smug look is still there, staring at you from above the room. You want to try the door, but for some reason you believe this will only get you into more trouble. You have to bite.

"Wh-what happened to you today, Emily?" You say, taking stock of her haunting confidence.

"Well, you know how you made all that money on crypto in the last three years, and you were able to buy this big, ridiculous Victorian, get yourself a nice new vehicle, and make Mom and Dad believe you're oh, so great compared to your black sheep sister who can't get herself together?" You just nod. Saying anything in response to that guilt-trip is nothing but a trap. "Well, was that because you really are that great? Or because you were just lucky?"

You were lucky, certainly--but the reason you had enough money in crypto to translate into a massive down payment for a house and a paid off new car was because you worked hard on your side hustles and invested your money starting when you were still doing little web projects as a high-schooler. But asserting that to an apparently vengeful, superpowered Emily at this moment might not be the best strategy.

"I, um...I was probably just lucky," You say, trying to sound humble. Em folds her arms and nods.

"Uh-huh. You were." As she begins to sail back down to the ground, you find yourself staring at a necklace of gleaming white medal around her neck. Had she always had that? "Well, Dylan, today the universe decided that it was my turn to be lucky." She raised a palm in front of you, and you felt yourself held still, like you were stuck in place. "And my luck seems to be a little more dynamic than yours."

"Wh-what are you doing to me, Emily?" You ask. "How are you doing all this?" She laughs.

"I dunno! In fact, I don't even know the limits of what I can do yet! Isn't that great?" She says.

"I...I can't move!" You say as she approaches you, looking you in the eyes with a terrible intensity.

"Shh...hey, it's okay. You can totally move," She says. "You can start by getting on your knees and telling me you will do anything and everything you can to convince Mom, Dad, and everyone else in your life that I'm actually the brilliant mind behind all your recent successes." This was ridiculous, but before you could even try to pander to her request, you found yourself dropping to your knees without even trying to. It was like you were being compelled to!

"Well, you are," You say, unable to stop yourself. "It was you that convinced me to make those investments, and I wouldn't even have this house without you." That wasn't true at all! Maybe you would have thought up something like that to tell her to save yourself in the moment, but it was like it wasn't even you saying it!

"Awww, see--that's so sweet of you, Dylan." Emily put her hand up to your cheek, gently stroking it. "That's a really good start. Any time someone praises you, your newfound wealth, or how damn smart you are, that's exactly what you're going to do--talk up your little sister and how you never could have done any of it without her."

"B-but..." You say under your own power, still confused by what your own body just did.

"But this is all little stuff, right? Not a lot to ask. Like, I think a really good show of your gratitude for my help would be to trade rooms with me," Emily says.

"Tr-trade rooms?" You ask. "Em, you're living in my house rent-free! Why would you get the master bedroom?" You say all this despite what you've just witnessed, and immediately after your protest, you knew you made a mistake.

"Because you're such a great brother that you're going to give it to me," Emily said. She put a couple of fingertips under your chin, lifting you from your knees again. Lifting you...clear off the ground? You were levitating again. You found yourself looking at the necklace once more.

"It's all yours, Emily," You find yourself saying words without your own forethought again. "I'll move my stuff out right away." As you stretch your legs, you find they reach the floor again, and when you're standing on solid ground, you try to protest again, trying to get your head together. "Emily, this is ridiculous!"

"No, you're right--it is. You're nice enough to give me your room, don't worry about moving your stuff out. I have all these wonderful talents now, it would be a shame to let them go to waste. She smiles again, snapping her fingers. "Just try not to get in the way, okay? I don't know how careful our things will be to watch out for the human traffic if I give them a command." Your door unlocks and pops itself open, and Emily breaks away from you, strutting to the hall. "I'm going to go pack up my stuff!"

At first you have no idea what she's talking about, but suddenly a cardboard box pops into existence over your desk.

Like, just becomes. You swallow hard, and by this time all the weirdness has made you bold enough that you walk up to the thing, pushing on one of its sides. It seems to hang in midair, shifting only a little when you push against it. What happens next, though...

"Wh-what the fuck!?"

Things on your desk begin levitating into it. Your computer cords are all disconnecting, wrapping and placing themselves in the box. When your keyboard floats out of the desk tray, you grab onto it, trying to hold it. Your paper ledger lifts off your desk, curls up, and smacks you in the ass in response, and you drop the keyboard, which continues packing itself.

"Hey, come on!" You cry, turning to the curled-up ledger and grabbing it. It pulls itself out of your hands just as quickly and slaps you across the face instead, and you put your hands up and back away. "What the hell? Emily!" You watch helplessly as the rest of your desk packs up. Another box is levitating next to your dresser now, and your little curios and mementos are lifting off your other furniture and depositing themselves. Framed art starts to come off of the wall. Now your closet opens. "Emily--Emily, how is this--" Stacks of clothes are lifting out of your closet, bobbing through the air toward your door. Your dresser drawers are opening up, and your things are all lifting out, following behind the clothes from the closet. "Damn it, stop!" You cry, moving toward your bedroom door. When you try to close it, the door won't budge, and pride overpowers critical thinking when you stand firmly in the doorway, bracing yourself against it and gritting your teeth. When a pile of folded t-shirts from a shelf in your closet tries to slide beside you, you try to grab them under your arm, but they slide through. A stack of jeans is next, and with the resolve of a mule, you lean forward and try to tackle them with both hands. "Stop! Everything STOP!"

You manage to hold onto them, but even if it's just a pile of denim, the levitating stack pushes you forward with the **** of an offensive lineman. Your socked feet slide along the threshold, and once you're on the wood flooring of the hall, the enchanted stack pushes you along even more easily. With your arms still wrapped around them, you grab a slat on the bannister, temporarily stopping your body from sliding any farther.

"Oh wow," You hear Emily say. She's giggling. "There's my Dylan. I was wondering if I totally broke your brain, but it's nice to see you actually trying to struggle against this," She says. When you look back at her, you see a trail of your things still sailing into her room down the hall.

"Emily...why are--HOW ARE YOU DOING ALL OF THIS!?" Another giggle is all you get in response.

"I mean, you're kind of right, I think I could have just snapped and made it happen all at once, but that's not nearly as fun as watching your things turn against you." She waves a hand at the pile of jeans you're desperately trying to keep hold of, and you feel your arm drawn away from you by some expanding ****.

"H-hey!" You shout. Now the jeans you're holding are no longer folded or flat. They're actually inflating--filling out in your arms, and you're **** to let go of the banister a the pile becomes multiple pairs cylindrical, hollow denim legs. Before long, you're actually wrangling with whole sets of legs, looking like lower halves of invisible people. Emily is laughing at you the whole time, and as the other seemingly possessed jeans march to Emily's room, you're left with just one pair, doing its best to break your grip on the back of its waist.

"You're not going to let him get away with manhandling your friends like that, are you?" Emily says, biting her lip a little as she nods at your waistline.

"Emily, what the hell are you ta--" Suddenly you're pulled backward, and you look down at your own waist as your jeans unbutton. "What the fuck?!" You still cling to the waistband of the empty pair as your own jeans unzip themselves, sliding down your legs and pulling your feet out from behind you. "Emily!?" She shrugs, watching your jeans magically strip off of you even as you still hold onto the invisibly-filled rear of the empty pair with an iron grip.

"Hey, I told you not to get in the way," She said. "Looks like your little show of **** against their friends has lost you the loyalty of your own pants," She snickers.

"Loyal--they--they're JUST JEANS!" You shout. The pants that have stripped off of you suddenly jump onto your shoulders, wrapping their denim thighs around your head and squeezing. "Heeeey...stop!" You hiss, finally letting go of the other pair and directing your attention to the jeans throttling you with their legs. "Em! Tell them to stop!" You beg. She puts her hands up.

"Just jeans? I think you really made them mad now. This is your battle, bro. Hey, nice undies," She says, pointing out your green briefs. "I mean, at least they're designer and not those cheap, gross white ones." She wanders past you, looking at your still-emptying room. "Hey, wow, this is going quick!" She says casually as you continue to struggle, trying to pry your own pants from your neck and shoulders. "I'm gonna keep your furniture set, okay? I really like your bed and your dresser--and I could totally use a nicer desk than that formica thing I've got in my room." You're not in a position to argue with her. You can't believe how strong an empty pair of jeans can be, and as you put your hands behind you to try to push them off by their own inflated rear, you wonder how silly it must look to see you fighting with your own animated clothing.

You give up.

"Em...please...tell them...to let go?" You say, looking back at her. She nods again. The jeans release you and follow the others into their new home at the end of the hall. "How...is it that...you can...do all this?" You ask again, trying to catch your breath. Just then, a blue plastic container you recognize comes sailing out of the room, and Emily's jaw drops as she looks inside it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop," Emily says. The hovering container holds itself in place, and Emily puts a hand to her mouth. "Oh, wow, Dylan." Your face is downcast now, hard. You know what's in that tote.

"Aw, come on, don't--" She holds a finger up to you, compelling you to shut up for a second.

"You know...under the circumstances? I think I want to know more," She says, grinning. A DVD rises out of the container. "Lusty Latex Lovelies 3?" Emily giggles. "Hmm...that's a little more interesting than I actually expected," she smirks. "I figured you for just lame vanilla nudie stuff."

"That's...come on, you're not supposed to see that shit," You say, feeling the heat rush into your cheeks. You know what else is in that tote.

"This thing? Really?" Emily asks. Your pocket pussy rises out of the container without her touching it. "Like, I dunno, for your budget I'd have expected you to get like, something you can hump. You can afford, like, a nice doll, can't you? And don't they have like, the whole silicone sorta-midsection thing for pretty cheap?" She asks. You don't want to know how your barely-legal sister knows so much about sex toys. "Like the thing that's just like, boobs, pussy and ass?" She shrugs. "I just don't see how the sleeve thing is much different from using your hand."

You don't even want to look her in the eyes now. This was not a conversation you wanted to have with your sister--let alone your sister augmented by insane abilities with heretofore unknown limitations. She's still shuffling through the container, and you know she's learning way more about you than you're comfortable with.

"Oh my goodness, Dylan, you have waaaaay changed my plans for us tonight," She says.

"Emily, you're not--"

"Yeah, 'not supposed to see that shit,' I got you the first time," she huffs, cutting you off. She dusts her hands off, and the container continues sailing toward her room. "I mean, you know I was always pretty nosy, right?" She smiles. "You're my big brother." You don't like the look in her eyes. Still that same smug smile. A raised eyebrow, cocked with more forbidden knowledge about your kinks than any family member should have.

"Wh-what do you mean?" You ask.

"Well, there are some particulars I only just learned by looking in that tote, but like, it's not a like a secret to womankind that 98% of males on the planet are all kind of rutting, horny animals, you know?" She says. "I mean I've seen some of the things on your PC." Your face drops. The whole 'you've been on my PC?' condemnation isn't going to get you anywhere in this position, so you just stew in your embarrassment. You notice that your trail of belongings is starting to taper off now.

"Emily, you've got my room, you've got, apparently, like, Jean Grey levels of telekinesis and mind control--"

"Ooh, Jean Grey. I like that," She says, fiddling with her pony tail. "You think I'd look better as a redhead?" She asks. "Maybe I'll try that later." You swallow hard. Do not give the girl any more ideas, for fuck's sake.

"Maybe we can just say, like, you totally, undeniably win, and leave my, um...pervy indiscretions out of it?" You plead. "Whatever else you want to do, I promise not to get in the way," You say. Her eyes light up.

"Oh, Dylan...that's what you're not getting, dude," She grins. "I liked watching you try to get in the way," She says. "And like, probably...I could just wink, or snap my fingers or like bob my head or something and make you want to just please my all whims and follow my commands, but what fun would that be?" She shakes her head. "No, no, no...if I can REALLY, REALLY do anything, then I'm going to need someone with a clear head to be any kind of interesting foil, aren't I?"

When you realize she's serious, you look at the woodgrains in the floor, watching as the shadows of the rest of your things dance through the hall toward your new room.

"You're my brother," Emily says. "I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want a mindless ****...well, maybe I do, but we can leave that position to like, Jenny Marshall, maybe...but I want to have fun with you. Doesn't that make sense?" She asks. You shake your head, and she laughs. "So the 'pervy indiscretions' thing really seems to have struck a chord, hmmm?" Emily smiles. You try not to groan too audibly when she says it.

"Like you said, Emily...I'm your brother," You try to say it firmly enough for her to take you seriously, but without any tone of assertion she'd take as a challenge. She beckons to you with a finger, and you're almost surprised when your body doesn't lift off the ground or automatically stand itself up without you. After a couple seconds, you bring yourself to your feet. She reaches out her arms for a hug, and you cautiously reciprocate.

"Awww, it's cute how worried you are," She says, embracing you and talking into your ear. You gently hug her back, trying not to make the action seem ****. "But shouldn't you be more happy for me?" She asks. "You got your good luck, and now I have mine...and both have us have earned different freedoms from it. You got us out of Mom and Dad's house...you're doing okay with money...and I...can pretty much bend reality to my will!" She squeaks. "Can you imagine all the fun we can have together?" Emily's gently rubbing your back now, and her arms go lower and lower with each stroke.

Your hope that this is a dream? It's starting to run out. Outside of Emily having like...comic-book like superpowers, reality doesn't feel particularly dreamy. Things are consistent. Solid. You came back from a minor-league ball game with your friends not half-an-hour ago. You remember all this happening today.

Suddenly, you gasp when Emily moves her hands past your shirt. You're suddenly reminded of just how pantsless you are. She grips your butt a little, patting it. "Don't you think us girls have some 'pervy indiscretions' too?" She whispers.

Psychologically, you're about as uncomfortable as you can be. Physiologically, you're a mess in a wholly different way. Your adrenaline is pumping from watching reality break--inanimate objects coming to life, you and Emily defying gravity. Your nervous and muscular tension is pulsing from your realization that even your highest efforts of physical resistance are absolutely no match for your sister's newfound abilities. Finally--maybe the most horrifying part at the moment--there are the endorphins and oxytocin running through your bloodstream as your little sister makes this weird effort to comfort and reassure you as you try to reconcile all this into your new picture of reality.

Your body is reacting to Emily's embrace in ways it should absolutely not be reacting.

"Awww, come on..." Emily says. "You don't think all of this is super exciting?" She asks. Fear, pleading, confusion, disgust...attraction(?) You're doing your best to hold back any and every strong reaction to this situation, and you just keep quiet. "Oh my god, Dylan, you are just a giant confused ball of crazy psychic conflicts!"

"Emily..." you plead one more time. "If you can do anything, why mess with me? I mean aside from coming at you this morning to clean up your stuff a little and asking once or twice how your job applications are going, haven't I been nothing but nice to you?"

"You have, Dylan. And I'm glad you invited me to come live with you when you got this place, because things could have gone much, much worse for you now if you were selfish about your good luck."

She giggles, letting you go. You do the same, relieved for a second until she continues:

"But see...you've always been in charge. You've always been the stronger one, the smarter one, the one everyone trusts..." She cocks her head, and that smug look returns. "This is why fucking with you is going to be so much more fun now!" She says. "I'm in charge now." She walks back toward your door. "Of everything, Dylan...see?" She looks down the hall and whistles. "Let's go ladies! Make it quick, because Dylan and I have plans tonight. I don't want to spend the entire evening redecorating!"

You watch as Emily's things begin hovering out of her room. You dodge and cling to the banister in the hallway. She heads into your room--hers now, you imagine--and you carefully navigate toward the door to her old room, looking in as your things begin to organize themselves. You'd really like to grab a pair of pants, but with everything moving around, you think about your spanking from your ledger and the futility of wrestling your own pants, and you simply stand in front of the doorway in stupefied acceptance.

You have no idea what Emily has planned for you when all this magical room-switching has wrapped itself up, but one thing seems to be pretty certain: you can't really avoid it.