A new card and a warning

I was sitting at my desk, trying to study, but my mind had other plans. Despite the textbook and the warm light from the desk lamp, I couldn't shake off the distractions. Thoughts kept popping up, making it hard to concentrate on what I was reading. I kept thinking of possible avenues for the few triggers I had already acquired. As minutes passed, studying became less about the textbook and more about getting lost in my own lewd thoughts, with the raindrops outside becoming background noise to my internal reflections. I felt drunk in the power I already had, which in itself was enough to make me extremely horny. However, I could not placate the thirst for more possibilities, more options, more domination.

I decided to embark on a quest for new trigger cards. Mum and Mia were in the house, but I believed that a bit of stealthy treasure hunting could go unnoticed. I moved with urgency from one room to another, my footsteps masked by the soft carpet beneath, holding my breath in my aim to be as quiet as possible.

With every passing minute, impatience festered. My search, initially marked by quiet resolve, now carried the weight of growing frustration. My once methodical movements became more frenzied as I combed through drawers, shuffled papers, and overturned cushions.

“The cards are bloody well hidden.” I thought, cursing the 8-ball for making this game so difficult.

Anxious moments in the attic followed, its dusty corners echoing with a sense of desperation. The mismatched boxes and forgotten childhood objects mirrored my internal turmoil as I sifted through memories. Each missed corner intensified the impatience eating at me, urging me to unearth the cherished cards.

A sudden gust of wind in the attic accentuated the mounting tension. Papers scattered, creating a whirlwind of chaos. In the confusion, I knocked a box over, causing a loud thump on the floor.

"Ryan, is everything okay up there?" Downstairs, Mum's voice rang out, concern evident in her inquiry.

Suppressing a surge of panic, I managed to intercept a floating card of familiar shape and colour, before it disappeared into the tumult. The attic bore witness to my silent victory. I collected the papers with a steadying breath.

Descending the creaky stairs, a veneer of composure masked my excitement. The living room welcomed me back with a serene face. The newly found card, now safely tucked in my pocket, served as a testimony to the unspeakable scenes that would soon unfold within the walls of our ordinary home.

“Sorry, Mum, I was looking for one of my old games in the attic.” I told Mum, who had just appeared at the door with a quizzical look.

“Don’t you think you have enough games already?” She asked, as she walked into the living room. She was wearing her favourite kitchen apron and her hands were white with flour, obviously in the process of cooking something. She folded her arms carefully, not wanting to stain them with flour. “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

“Yes, Mum, sorry, I will get back to my desk in a few minutes.” I replied and admired my Mum’s bottom as she turned around and went back to her cooking.

As I settled into a chair, the tension of the search slowly ebbed away. The living room now held a quiet sense of accomplishment. The rain outside created a soothing melody against the window panes, providing a dramatic tone to the new powers that were about to be revealed to the perverted mage. With shaky hands, I read the card.

“When needed, you can book an appointment with an exceptional doctor so that she can help you with whichever issues you might be experiencing. This exceptional doctor will believe she is in an actual doctor’s visit, but she will show a sexy twist to her profession if you play it well.”

“Oh, wow!” I whispered to myself. “Now, this is a cool trigger...”

Often, I pondered my mother's profession as a doctor with a mixture of emotions. Undoubtedly, her job as a physician had brought pride to our family. The sacrifices and hard work she had dedicated to her career were evident in the respect and admiration they received from others. Yet, beneath the surface of familial pride lurked a sense of distance. Her status as a doctor bestowed upon her an almost regal aura, an air of power and superiority that subtly permeated their interactions. In the exchanges at the dinner table or the way medical jargon effortlessly slipped into everyday conversations, I couldn't help but feel a gap between me and my mother.

While I admired my mother's accomplishments, I couldn't shake the feeling that her success had inadvertently created a divide, a hierarchy that overshadowed the familial bonds. My mum was a medical doctor and also a devoted wife and mother, putting the bar too high for me, and I wondered whether Mia had similar thoughts. I suspected this was the underlying reason why I felt so compelled to play the 8-ball game, as a way to even out the playing field, to bring my mother down from god status. Surely that was why I found this trigger so particularly enticing, as it would give me the opportunity of sexually exploiting her in her most noble role.

-

Later that day I was back at my desk, trying hard not to be distracted by the new card, the new power, when Mia knocked at the door and barged in. While pissed off for her intrusion, I was glad for once to be sitting and studying instead of jerking off to some stolen underwear. Mia stood in the middle of the bedroom, arms folded at her chest.

“Ryan, we need to talk. I'm fed up with the way you've been treating Mum lately. It's not fair.” She did not beat about the bush.

“What are you on about? I haven't done anything.” I replied, both palms out.

"Oh, come on! You're exploiting her, and it's not cool. Mum's not your personal servant." Mia pointed a finger at my face.

"Exploiting her? What are you talking about? I've just been busy with school and stuff." My mind raced to figure out how much could Mia actually suspect.

"Busy? More like taking advantage. Mum's not a maid, you know. She's not here to clean up after you and do everything for you." She insisted.

"Look, Mia, things have changed recently. I got so much work to do for school, like seven or more assignments. I barely have time to breathe, let alone do chores." I looked at my desk, as a proof of my workload, but really I was just trying to hide my face, afraid that Mia could read the guilt in my eyes.

“That's not an excuse to treat Mum like she's invisible. She's not just a housekeeper for you.” Mia replied.

“I get it, but you don't understand the pressure I'm under. Mum offered to help, and I'm not going to turn that down.” I smiled innocently, but afraid of this conversation escalating.

“It's not about turning it down; it's about being fair. Mum deserves some respect and appreciation, not to be treated like your personal assistant.” Mia obviously had a point, but I was careful not to concede an inch.

“I appreciate Mum, and I do help when I can. But right now, school is demanding, and Mum's helping me out. It's a temporary thing.” I replied, still looking at the books.

“Temporary or not, you need to show Mum more gratitude and not take advantage of her kindness. She's not getting any younger, you know?” Mia insisted.

“I'll talk to Mum and make sure she knows how much I appreciate her help.” I started to really worry about the path this conversation was taking. “But cut me some slack, Mia. I'm doing my best here”.

“Yeah right!” Mia did not show signs of backing off. “Something fishy has been happening for over a week now and I just want you to know that I am watching you. If you keep doing whatever it is that you are doing, I will be telling Dad and Zoey.”

“Oh, come on! You are paranoid!” I felt the panic grow in my stomach. I just hoped Mia could not sense that she had hit on the bullseye. “Or worse, you are jealous because, for once, Mum is treating me the way she has been treating you all our lives. You are so used to your privilege, that you are mistaking fairness with a conspiracy or something”.

“Whatever, dude. I am watching you.” She muttered between her teeth before storming off, leaving me worried and looking at her shapely arse. As she reached the door, she turned around to throw one last warning look, just to discover that I was checking her out. She finally left with a disgusted and saddened face.

“Pervert.” I heard her shout from the hallway. I was left sitting in my room, thinking about how bad this situation actually was, in what precise ways this could go sour. If Mia and Mum were to find out that I was exerting some kind of control over them, could that affect the power of the triggers?

“You better be careful.” The voice of the 8-ball made me jump on me chair.

“Jesus, man! You scared me!” I turned my frustration towards the ball sitting on the bedside table.

“Just sayin’.” continued the voice from the ball. “If shit hits the fan because of your sloppiness, I won’t save you, you are on your own. And yes, your thinking was right for once, if they suspect that you are controlling them, this could prevent the triggers from working. At least the less powerful ones, for sure.”

“The less powerful ones? What do you mean? Which ones?” I asked.

“As I said, you are on your own. Now leave me alone, I am busy.” Replied the 8-ball.

“You are busy? What could you possibly be busy with?” I felt I could not deal with this primadonna in a moment like this. But the 8-ball did not reply.

“Oh come on, man!” I begged, to no response. “Shit, shit, shit,…”

I felt a mounting sense of panic as I contemplated the potential fallout from my sister and mother discovering my secret power and my depraved mission. The mere thought of them stumbling upon the truth sent shivers down his spine. I envisioned a household thrown into disarray, with drama unleashing and the devastating disappointment, and horror, that would surely follow. The consequences seemed dire, and I couldn't shake the image of disappointed glances while I was being kicked out of the family home, or worse, taken away by the police. Oh God, Zoey would be so fucking angry… The weight of chaos hung heavy on my mind, with the fear of irreparable damage. The power of the triggers that had provided a false sense of security now felt like a ticking time bomb, and I couldn't help but dread the storm that would sweep my household and my life.

My head buzzed with a flurry of thoughts and emotions as I grappled with the urgent need to devise a plan to safeguard my well-kept secret. Analysing the potential risks and consequences, I began by meticulously assessing the routines of my family, identifying potential moments of vulnerability.

First order of business: never ever use the triggers in a petty way, especially in front of Mia. It was just so irresponsible to use the trigger that makes Mum side with me whenever I argued with Mia. I will make sure to let Mum side by Mia and lose all those silly arguments. Also, I regretted pretending that I had cooked a pizza that was still in the box in which it had been delivered. That was so stupid. But that ended right there and then, no more casual ostentation of my powers for the sake of it.

Second, from now on I would use the triggers in a premeditated way. I would carefully plan what to use, and when and for what purpose, and I would make sure that the risks of being discovered are close to none.

And finally, always always always use the powers when home alone with either Mum or Mia. This would limit the opportunities and seriously slow down my progress, but I had to be super safe.

As I pieced together his plan, a mix of anticipation and anxiety enveloped me, acutely aware that the success of my scheme rested on my capacity for being disciplined. I had to preserve the status quo. The problem was that I was normally pretty bad at being disciplined about anything…

-

It took an additional three days until I found himself home alone with Mum. I was determined to adhere to the plan, steering clear of unnecessary risks, yet the wait proved to be arduous. Moreover, I refrained from masturbating during this period, aiming to capitalise on the next opportunity. The cucumber experience had planted in me an appreciation for delayed gratification.

That one evening, I was watching some boring TV show, sprawled on the living room sofa. Mum was doing some household chores, Mia was in her bedroom doing God-knows-what and Dad was on a business trip.

Mum found a moment to address my priorities while casually folding the laundry.

"Ryan, love, how about getting your homework done before you lose yourself in the telly?" she suggested, without even looking at me.

I reluctantly tore his eyes away from the screen, a fleeting pout on his face.

"Aw, Mum, do I have to do it now?" I asked.

"Yes, Ryan. You'll thank yourself later. TV will still be here once your homework's sorted." She continued folding clothes without paying much attention to me.

Grumbling, I shuffled towards the dining table, where I had laid a couple of school books. I could have used the TV trigger, but that would go against the plan and I also hoped that Mia would come downstairs at some point. I wanted to dispel her suspicions by showing her a scene that she had not seen in a while. In fact, she had not seen me obeying Mum pretty much since the game began. Mum, with a pleased smile, continued with her chores, intermittently glancing over to make sure I stayed on track.

"You'll be done in no time, and then you can enjoy the TV guilt-free, alright?" She finally looked at me.

I mumbled an agreement, begrudgingly opening the textbook and trying to concentrate. In spite of everything, I wanted to do well at school, it’s not like this game of triggers would bring me a bright future. Or would it?

The brief tranquillity was interrupted by the tap-tap of Mia's footsteps on the staircase. She descended, ready for an evening out. As she walked into the living room, she stood there for a moment to take the scene in. Mia looked Ryan in the eye, her face expressionless, but her eyes full of warning. Ryan looked back at her, his face projecting innocence. Mum interrupted what she was doing, curious about the silent communication between her two children.

“I’m going out with my friends, I won’t be late, Mum” Mia said, with a small tilt of her head.

“Have fun, darling.” Mum replied, folding a t-shirt, still wondering about their children.

Mia gave me one last look before leaving. A few seconds later we heard the main door closing and Mia driving off into town. As soon as my sister was gone, my mother reached to her blouse and undid the top three buttons, letting her delicious cleavage get some air and not minding her son being in the room. She then continued with the task of folding clothes into the laundry basket. While pretending to read his book, I was mesmerised by her movements, her effortlessly efficient arm movements and her bending over to stack the clean clothes. Her boobs had a sway of their own as she worked. There was an obvious mass to them that would oscillate back and forth, left and right, with a slight delay to the rest of her body. It was a delightful spectacle.

“Hey, Mum” I interrupted her as she was grabbing the basket and about to go off to distribute the clean laundry to the different bedrooms. She stopped and faced me with the basket propped against her hip. “I think I might have a medical issue.”

She cocked an eyebrow and took a few seconds before answering.

“What could it possibly be? Do you need a new excuse to skip school tomorrow?” She asked, rightly suspicious. She had grounds to be sceptical.

“Yeah, well, I am a bit embarrassed to say.” I replied. “I think it would be best to get an appointment with the doctor, and I could talk directly to him. Or her.”

“Don’t be silly, I am a doctor and I am positive that I can deal with whatever it is that you are making up.” Her annoyance was becoming quite obvious.

I was a bit surprised by her answer, as she was behaving normally and she did not seem affected by a trigger. Still seated at the dining table, I reached into my pocket, taking the card out and putting it on my lap, out of view from my Mum. The card read “you can book an appointment with an exceptional doctor”. Right, I had forgotten the exceptional part.

“I’m sorry Mum, I meant to say that I need to book an appointment with an exceptional doctor. I am experiencing quite an exceptional ache.” I said, marking my words to make sure the trigger would indeed trigger.

“Oh.” Was her brief reaction, followed by the usual glazed eyes and those magic moments when the trigger did its thing in her beautiful head. Bingo! That simple manifestation of my power, that dazed look of hers, washed me with a wave of arousal.

“But of course, Ryan, let’s get you a visit with an exceptional doctor right away. Why don’t you go to your room?” She continued. “And wait there for the doctor?”