Changing Voice

Josh was hungover. His throat felt like sandpaper. Stupid Jaeger Meister.

He staggered towards the kitchen in search of coffee. He smelled it as he approached, and that was good and bad. Good because he wouldn't have to wait for it to brew; bad because it meant either his mom Ronnie or his sister Jemma had made it and would likely give him shit about being hungover again.

His dark haired older sister was sipping her coffee at the kitchen table and scrolling through her phone. She glanced up at him and rolled her eyes.

"Did you get wasted again?" she asked.

Josh opened his mouth, then closed it. He wouldn't let her badger him into an argument. He needed coffee. Focus on the coffee.

He sipped the blessed, bitter brew and sighed.

"You're welcome," Jemma said expectantly.

"Like brewing coffee is hard," he said. "I would have brewed it if I got up first."

"What's up with your voice?" Jemma asked.

"My voice?" he said. "That's weird."

Now that she mentioned it, his voice did sound different. Deeper. But also higher? How could it be both? It was like it was coming out in a subtle four part harmony.

"What the hell were you drinking last night?" she asked.

"God, Jemma! Why do you and mom have to make such a big deal about me getting drunk on the weekend?" he said.

"Because you're family and we don't want to see you wasting your life!" she said. "You need to take some responsibility!"

"Well, you need to just fuck yourself!" he said.

"Fine!" she exclaimed, and thrust her hand down her sweatpants.

"Huh?" Josh asked.

Jemma leaned back in her chair and bit her lower lip, her knees spread, her hand aflutter in her pants.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Fucking myself," she said. "I just need to fuck myself."

"And you don't even care if I watch?" he demanded.

"I don't even care if you watch," she confirmed, working her hips as she diddled away.

This was bizarre.

"Well, pull down your pants so you can do it right," he said.

"Okay," she agreed, and stood up just long enough to pull her pants and panties down around her ankes, then sat back down and worked two fingers into her twat an started pumping them in and out.

This was insane! Was his changed voice making her do what he told her to do? This had to be a joke, but why on earth would Jemma take a joke this far? She was bare-assed finger fucking herself in front of him in the kitchen!

There had to be something he could tell her to do that she would refuse.