Why work when the world's become your oyster?

It just occurred to John. Why the fuck does she need a job for now, anyways? Never mind working for anyone else ever again when she could make money hand over fist with a snap of her fingers! Sure there was that one warning from her dad about being discreet, but what was anyone going to do? Tranquilize her? Snap: immunity to toxins and poisons! Shoot her? Snap: instant regeneration! Suppress her? Snap: not when she's got superhuman strength and agility, baby!

The beauty of the modifications was that none of them changed her appearance..., but then how did she know that any of them worked? John supposed that the instant regeneration would be the easiest to test out. She sighed, going up the stairs and walking back to her room. From further down the hall, John could hear her mom, "Oh, oh yes, George, honey, riiiight theeeerrrrreee, ooooohhhhh~!"

John blushed, despite herself. God, did they have any idea how loud they were being? She opened the door to her room quietly, even though there was no way they'd hear it being opened normally over the sound of their fucking, but John wasn't about to test out that hypothesis right now. She walked over to her dresser to peruse her personal effects: a wallet, with a now out-of-date ID and some cash, her keys, and a pocket knife that she never left home without.

John took the knife, flipping it open, and was about to press it against her skin when she hesitated. Well, of course she hesitated, she was never the sort of person to engage in any kind of self-harm or derive pleasure from blood-letting, but testing this out was important. If she did indeed just give herself super-powers, this was the easiest and least painful way to go about it. Steeling herself, John pressed the knife of the back of her other arm and with a hiss through her clenched teeth, cut herself. She wiped the knife off on a pair of discarded underwear that had been haphazardly thrown on top of her dresser while the blood began to well from her wound.

"Hey, sis, whatcha doing?" came a voice from John's door, causing her to jump and wheel around. In her haste to test this out, John had left her bedroom door open, where Melanie now stood, wearing her school uniform (which as John liked to tease, looked like a drab-green Japanese seifuku). Upon seeing her sister's freshly cut arm, Melanie rushed into the room, "Omigod, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm...fine, I was just testing something," John replied, before adding, "I may have just given myself super powers."

"Oh, wow!" Melanie rushed in, "Lemme guess, regeneration?"

"How did you…? Nevermind. But yeah," John answered, just now noticing that the cut didn't hurt anymore. She grabbed the same pair of undies she used to clean her knife and wiped her arm clean of the still wet and glistening blood. There was no more cut, not even a scar or blemish to mark its passing, "Huh," was all John could say.

"Whoooaaa!" Melanie's eyes sparkled, "So could you give me super powers?"

John cocked an eyebrow at her youngest sister, "I'm not entirely sure if that would be the wisest course of action."

"Oh, come one!" Melanie pouted, "At least give me the ability to control my own boob size, so I don't have to keep come running to you every time I want them changed!"

"That…," John mused, "Would actually be pretty convenient."

"See? So gimme!"

"Okay, but only because you're my sister," John smirked, "I'm going to start charging other people for their changes. You get the family discount."

"Fuck yeah!" Melanie pumped her fist into the air as her sister snapped her fingers.

"To change, just imagine the size you want and snap your fingers," John instructed. Melanie nodded and closed her eyes, concentrating. Then she brought up her hand and with a snap, her bust expanded a good extra three inches, pushing her uniform to its absolute limit without tearing it.

"Wow, it worked," Melanie exclaimed when she opened her eyes and looked down, "And, whoa, that's a new sensation."

"What?" John asked, panic creeping into her voice. Did she screw it up somehow?

"Huh?" Melanie looked at her sister, then "pffft"ed in laughter, "Oh, I was just talking about the breeze on my belly! My shirt's been hiked up far enough to get untucked!"

John looked down, indeed Melanie's belly button was now just barely exposed for all to see in between her shirt and pleated skirt. "You know what? I think I'll leave it like that, see how many people notice," Melanie twirled around to leave, "I mean, there is a rule against exposed stomachs, but I think I can get away with it if I blame it on a growth spurt. Thanks, sis!" Melanie called as she happily skipped out of sight.

John shook her head, again questioning the wisdom of giving booby super powers to her newly-exhibitionistic little sister. Oh, well, she thought, if something untoward does happen, I can fix it with a snap of my fingers!

John grabbed her knife, keys, cash, and debit card. Carrying around her ID would only raise more problems than solve at this juncture, and she made a mental note to renew it at her earliest convenience. Until then, she'd just snap her way out of those kind of problems.

One thing was definitely for sure, she wouldn't need her job anymore, but John had never been the time to quit a job by just not showing up, and she was pretty sure her boss wouldn't recognize her voice over the phone, which meant she'd have to go give her resignation in person, which would be better to do now than just-before, during, or even after her shift. She wasn't looking forward to this, but it had to be done.