Your Boss's Daughters

Naturally, you realize you've been given an incredible gift. With this power, you could change the world. You could criminals to confess their wrongdoings and give up lawbreaking. You could make politicians and civic leaders forgo corruption and usher in a new Golden Age of democracy. You could end any war with just a few phone calls, bring an end to corporate malfeasance, and foster peace and cooperation between every person on the planet.

But first, you have a better idea.

You call the first number in your phone—your boss, Jim. Jim's an okay guy, but you've never been buddy-buddy. Now and then he invites you and your coworkers over to watch a fight or the game and even though you'd rather not spend your days off hanging around him you've had a secret reason for accepting. Of course, it was never going to come to anything...until now.

On the third ring, Jim picks up the phone. "Yo, John," he says in a relaxed tone. "What's going on?"

"Hey, boss. Listen, I'm not going to come into work today, but I'd still like to get paid," you start off, praying to whatever God there may be that your new ability doesn't require face-to-face contact or anything.

"Hm..." Jim begins with a thoughtful hum, worrying you in the slightest. However, a small laugh from him reassures you as he openly agrees. "Sounds good to me, John. You've definitely deserved it."

With a wicked smile, you bask in the confirmation that your powers do indeed lie within your voice itself, much like the disembodied voice itself. This makes everything that much easier.

"Thanks, Jim," you say. "You know, though, when you say that I deserve it, I can't help but feel that I also deserve that raise I've been wanting for a while. There'd be no issue if my pay was bumped up an extra ten or eleven dollars an hour, right?"

"For you, John, I could probably get you an extra fifteen or twenty," Jim states, buying into your words without any hesitation. "On top of that, I'll give you overtime for your day off today. Don't worry, if my bosses give me any shit for it, I'll set 'em straight. You're our best employee, after all."

Your smile's grown so wide that it could practically fall off of your face. To believe that you can really have anyone do whatever you say...it's astounding.

"I appreciate it, man," you say as if you weren't the puppet-master behind him, ready to advance your plans. "By the way, your daughter...what was her name? Veronica? The young one who just finished senior year? Could you put her on the phone?"

Wait, are you forgetting something...?"

"Oh, and anything I tell her to do, I'd like it if you're totally cool with that," you quickly add on, realizing the extra command you were looking for. "In fact, from now on, you're fine with anything I tell anybody to do, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan," Jim says, as if you didn't even have to say anything. On the other end you hear him shout, "Veronica, it's for you!"

After a minute, you hear her voice. "Hello?"

"Hey Veronica, it's John," you begin. "I work for your dad. I'm sure you remember me. I'm that guy you and your sister always thought was really creepy."

"Oh," she responds, her tone of voice descending into one of annoyance and disgust. "What do you want?"

"Well, I just talked with your dad, and he and I both agreed that you and your sister should be great friends with me and hang out with me all the time instead of hating me. That sounds like a pretty good idea, yeah?"

"It does, actually," her voice quickly pulling a 180 degree tone into an upbeat, chipper tone. "Tiffany and I should definitely be way nicer to you, yeah. Sorry about that."

"Good, good," you say. "Tiffany goes to one of the local universities in town, yeah? I'd like her cell phone number. Could you give it to me?"

"Sure," Veronica says as she rattles off a series of digits. You scribble them down.

"Great. Anyway, your dad gave me the day off and is going to be working the night shift in my place tonight. Why don't you cancel whatever plans you've git and hang out with me instead? Let Tiffany know as well. The three of us can have a fun time chilling. We'll use your dad's place, since it's nicer than mine. I'm sure he won't mind."

"That sounds really fun, John. I was gonna go shopping with some friends, but I'd much rather do that. You're awesome!" Veronica enthuses. "I'll just hang around here and wait for you, then."

You hang up. You can't believe how easy this is. Then again, why should it be any other way? You've got the power.

Dialing Tiffany's number, she picks up on the second ring. At first, she sounds confused and creeped out, but after you explain very carefully how much she likes you and what a great idea it is for her to skip all of her classes and come hang out with you and her sister, she happily agrees.

An hour later, you pull into Jim's driveway in your new Mercedes (your neighbor down the block "gave" it to you, since you noticed how much better you'd look driving it than he would and he agreed) and Veronica bounces down the steps to greet you.

"I'm so glad you're here," she says with a bright smile as she kisses you by the cheek and latches her arm around yours. "Tiffany's out by the pool, come on." She all but drags you to the back, where Tiffany is indeed laying on a sun chair at poolside. She greets you warmly, hugging you so that her firm little body rubs against yours. Both girls tell you again how great it is that you're here, genuinely excited about the day they'll be spending with you.

You look them over. At 22 years old, Tiffany is a brunette with dynamite legs, studying to be a chemist. Jim talks all the time about how she's got top honors at school and the big, important medical research she'll be doing someday. Having just graduated high school, Veronica is an 18 year old blonde with an awesome rack, studying the violin. Supposedly, she's one of the most promising up-and-coming musical talents in a generation.

Of course, you couldn't care less about any of that. All that matters to you is that they're hot, sexy playthings you can dominate without even trying. With a snap of your fingers these smart, enterprising, talented young women could become giggly, brainless bimbos whose only ambition is servicing your throbbing hard-on with their scandalous bodies.

The question is, should you do it?