Distant. Void. Devoid of conscious thought.

Dawn would never have categorized her elder sister with any of these words in the past, but the thin strand of drool that trails its way down her chin and that hangs, perilously, in a constant threat of falling has filled the young woman with these thoughts. Uncertain, she chews on her lower lip.

Fuck. The spell wasn’t meant to do this – or, more accurately, she hadn’t meant to cast the spell that actually did do this. Mental alteration magics are often surprisingly similar for wildly different effects, owing to the delicate nature of the psyche. A few misplaced syllables and a rune drawn with a hand shakier than she had accounted for (a night of restless sleep will do that to a woman!) led to her sister’s head being emptied out of any amount of agency.

Leaning forward, inspecting her sister, Dawn’s expression changes by only a couple of ticks. Her lips shift as her gaze falls from worry and into the much more dangerous realm of considering the possibility of what she has accidentally wrought. The spell will leave a permanent mark on her sister, if Dawn wills it to be, and it doesn’t take much more than a furtive glance down Katie’s form to make the little pit of what she’d always assumed to only be the specter of jealousy manifest itself in its entirety.

Lust (with, naturally, a minor hint of jealousy) floods through her. The possibility of having a hand in the subtle machinery of Katie’s mind makes the shorter, younger of the two girls find her chest growing taught; she’s forgotten to breathe in the existential excitement that she’s found herself immersed in. Katie has always worn low-cut shirts, and staring down into the valley of cinnamon-hued tit flesh that gives way to softer shades of brown makes a decidedly more primal part of her twitch in anticipatory need. It would be oh, oh so easy to reach out and just take. It’d be effortless to give in and let the reptile brain open its slathering maw and feast between Katie’s thighs. It’d be…

Dawn takes a breath. She forces her thoughts away from the achingly needy heat tucked away below her stomach.

“Bark.” Dawn forces out the first one-word command that she can think of. The spell isn’t limited by the amount of words, naturally; she could fill their shared apartment up with a diatribe to make the Ancient Greek scholars of yore blush and each word would hang as a prominent banner in machinery of Katie’s mind. But it’s the easiest way to allow herself a suitable brush of power without totally perverting the trust that her sister put into her. She can betray that later, but her absolute first act probably shouldn’t be to ravish the woman. Not yet.

Katie’s response is instant, in the sort of way that is only possible when the mind doesn’t need to stop to actually process what is being said to it. Her deeper, often pseudo-boyish tone of voice sounds delightfully pliable when its melody is contorted into a suitably effortful “Ruff!~” The sound makes Dawn’s heart beat a few beats per minute faster.

That was a bad fucking idea.

With an ounce of trepidation, Dawn’s hand reaches out to brush through Katie’s auburn-hued hair. She’d probably shove her for the act of petting her if she were in any state to actually comprehend what was happening to her, but as it is it’s not clear that she even recognizes that she’s being touched. Her expression remains utterly placid. It should not be making Dawn want to use her as much as it is.

Dawn contemplates her situation. She looks into the deep mahogany of Katie’s eyes, uncertainty raging in the recesses of her mind. How the fuck is she going to live with herself after this?

It’ll be easy, a more shameful and less noble part of her than she’d usually care to acknowledge chimes in. We can probably get a full night’s rest if she fucks us on the daily.

Dawn’s darkly-painted nails trail through Katie’s hair, brushing past her cheek until they cup the underside of her chin. She gives the dormant psyche of her older sibling a pointed look. The options she has are many. She could ruin her sister’s life with this, if she weren’t careful.

A darker shade of her psyche already knows the path that she has consigned herself to: she will.

After a handful of breaths, the woman’s lips finally part, “Katie. If I ever grab you like this again, you’ll fall into the same state that you are in now until I release you. You will-,” her voice catches in her throat. Nervousness. She could still back out of this; it isn’t too late. Dawn gulps, “You will never resist me touching any part of your body.”

She will be damned for this. She’s sure of that. Her eyes flit to the left, past their drab couch and out towards the cityscape that stretches out from them. A more paranoid part of her fears that someone is watching them, but the feeling is squashed with the more mundane reality of being several dozen stories up. With more effort than she feels she deserves to muster, she continues.

“When I release your chin, you’ll return to your normal…” She momentarily trails off as she contemplates her words, “Normal state of consciousness.” She nearly releases her grip on her sister, before quickly adding, “You won’t mind me staring at your body. If anything, me staring will make you want to show yourself off.”

Her fingers hesitate – she can still fix everything that she’s done. It doesn’t have to be this way.

Dawn’s hand leaves her sister’s chin, and the binding of her mystical enchantments visibly release themselves from Katie’s mind. In an instant, the color and life returns to the older sister’s face.

“I, uh,” Katie groans. There’s a hint of exhaustion behind her voice, though it’s not clear that she recognizes its presence, “don’t think that your confidence boosting techniques worked, Dawn. I still feel the same.”

She has to fight back a telling giggle when she confirms that Katie doesn’t register Dawn’s hand upon her breast as an issue worth commenting on. With her digits kneading into the supple flesh, she forces a puff of annoyed air from her lips.

“Well, dang. We’ll have to work some more on this later.”