Well, they’re still very much not having sex.

Your mother was going crazy. Every time you dropped by she upped her antics, wearing shorter and skimpier clothing, sluttier accessories, crazier makeup. She’s by the end of the third week tried to impress you with a “SLUT” collar made of gilded steel and leather, worn some sort of horrifying catsuit in what you only assumed was latex, demonstrated a belly piercing you swore she never had before, expressed strong interest in tramp stamps out of the blue, attempted to sit on your lap in several occasions… and systematically made herself look like a fool under the impotently raging gaze of your former father.

You took great care to pretend to not even notice, however unlikely it was at that point, playing the part of the exceedingly polite Southern gentleman you weren’t anymore. It was entirely impossible to imagine the inner glee and satisfaction you derived from seeing her sink to ever increasing depths in her behavior, and to see your father being punished for his past behavior.

After a while, you realized that your younger brother had made himself scarce as the weeks went by. As you enquired, it became clear that he’d been avoiding the house, coming in late and discreetly and leaving as early as possible for his summer job. Tracking him, you ended up getting him to confide in you. He felt shame and anger at his half brother for sullying the family name, and he resented his mother for her behavior. She’s never been a very privy individual, but the last month had been harrowing. It was almost like she now felt the need to hit on every man around her, including her own sons, except for her husband who she now treated like a permanent nuisance. You were overjoyed to hear that, even though you wondered just how much of the confidence came from your newly found people’s skills, and how much was just the Voice’s obvious involvement. You hadn’t forgiven him either, and while you were not trying actively to ruin his life, some measure of punishment for abusing your situation when you were female was a welcome bonus. Try being forcefully skullfucked some time, and end up with every hole soaked in drying cum from the very people who should have protected you, and see how resentful you end up…

As he explained his frustration, you realized you had a major card to play.

You were by now a well known and welcome face in college. Teachers enjoyed interacting with you, students knew you’d always try to help when they didn’t understand a concept or needed some practical solution to those little issues that seem to litter student life. Politically active students seemed to carefully avoid areas of your life they didn’t like: Democrats ignored your deep knowledge of weapons and your newly found passion for the efficacy of Liberal Economics, as much as your advocacy in class for small governments. They didn’t even know you were mostly playing a part to attract attention from decision makers, since given your already stellar track record, you stood a chance to get superb internship opportunities should faculty members decide to use their connections to help you. Republican-leaning students on the other hand chose to ignore your profound hate for anything resembling pro-lifer stances. Having been **** to endure the initial stages of a pregnancy had burned into your soul a deep pro-choice belief. As the son of one of the pillars of the community in your town, a successful businessman in the field of weapons, you embodied many qualities both type of budding politicians wished to court in their perceived future electorate.

Young ladies, LGBTQ+… it seemed that everyone saw you as an ally, and you made sure to be exactly that. You had learned the hard way that in a world were magic may make you anyone in a snap, it was wiser to make sure no one could complain of their station in life…

And so, when you suggested you might hold a large party at the college, every obstacle seemed to vanish. Students volunteered to help organize. The administration somehow provided security staff. A famous large soft drinks company provided drinks, soon joined by an even more famous hard liquor one. At that point you already knew that party would end up increasing the national birth rate… even slightly so.

And you played your mischievous hand. You made sure your half brother participated, making a show of being helpful and reformed. You made sure your younger brother delivered part of the supplies, and ended up staying. You made sure, late in the night, that your slut of a mother ended up attempting to pick up your brothers at one of the frat houses.