Mee Shall Inherit

Warning: this story contains anal homosexual semi-consensual sex, violence, strong language, themes of incest and mind control. Viewer discretion is advised.

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Sitting on mother's porch, I experience a feeling that few people feel - contentment. As she hands me a tall glass of iced lemonade, I sigh. With Erica removed from my life I feel as if everything in my world is back in order, no worries, and no problems. When Mr. Johns gets home, I'll have a distraction from the unpleasant activities of this morning.

Smiling up at my nude mother, I take the drink and say thank you, placing the straw to my lips and taking a long sip. Mother makes the iced lemonade just the way like it, half lemonade, half iced tea, and extra sweet.

Mother looks down and shines a smile full of motherly love, warmth and affection. With a final nod she moves back into the house. I watch her go, firm tan ass wiggling with every step and sway of her wide hips.

I look across the street at my neighbor's house, and recall the lawn-fucking I gave Mrs. Santiago this morning. I hear again the sound of my hips whapping into her wide, full ass cheeks. I relive the surge of power as I ejaculated deep inside her rectum, as she grunted and groaned with lust beneath me. I know Mr. Santiago comes home every day at around lunchtime for a little afternoon delight; this is what has brought me back out to the porch.

I hear a car in the distance and my heart leaps, my adrenaline surges. I know that I'm going to go over there after he gets into the house and I have a general idea on how I want to provoke him to anger before putting a stop to it, and having my way with him. The specifics will plan themselves out; I do my best thinking last minute, in the heat of the moment.

You may be asking yourself 'why does he have such a hard-on for the Santiago family?' Two weeks ago I watched from the dining room window as the Santiago family moved in, Mr. Santiago directing the movers as they unload his and his wife's belongings. With imperious gestures and loud shouts he orchestrated the workmen; a timed dance intended not to go over their first hour and into the second, lest they incur further fees.

I decided to the neighborly thing and cross the road, to introduce myself. I grabbed a glass bowl of Jell-O from the refrigerator, and threw on a pair of pants and a mostly clean t-shirt. Mr. Santiago paused in his stern directing to give me a death stare as I neared his new house, and when I was within arm's length, before I could open my mouth to utter word one he smacked mother's prize Gelatin desert out of my hand and told me in no uncertain terms to get the fuck off of his lawn. That day I knew I had a new play-toy, and began to plot revenge as I retrieved mother's favorite bowl and got the fuck off his well manicured lawn.

Today is vengeance day. I've fucked his wife, and now I'm going to fuck him, both literally and figuratively. I walk back across and ring the doorbell, hearing a muffled "who the fuck?" from somewhere inside. I grin and step closer, nose almost touching the brown wooden door - a new purchase from Home Depot. With a whoosh the door is whipped open, revealing the barrel chested, sleeveless t-shirt wearing patriarch, Mr. David Santiago. Curly salt and pepper hair frames his balding scalp, matching the curly scruff that decorates his shoulders and chest. I feel a wave of heat exits the home; his air conditioning must not be functioning. Shame, that... I plan to really work up a sweat.

"What do you want, you LITTLE shit?" David asks in a mock nice-nice tone. "You here to drop off more Jell-O, you little motherFUCKER?"

Smiling, I take a half step forward and ask "David, can I come in?"

The look on his red, sweaty face is priceless. "Come in? You want to come in where? Here? Oh no, you little shit. Go back to your mamma's house before I make you regret the day you were born." He punctuates the last two words with two pokes to my chest. This is just what I needed; just a little more and I'll feel really REALLY good about what comes next.

Standing my ground I ask again "David, can I come in? I know that your fat wife is home, and I wanted to see if she felt like taking my cock up her ass again. Do I have to say please?"

The look on David's face is worth a thousand pictures. First was a flash of shock, his lower jaw dropping open comically. His recovery was fast, as he switched from shock, to suspicion, cocking his head to the side. He moved quickly from suspicion to anger, then to pure, animal rage. Spraying spittle he howls "YOU LITTLE MOTHER FUCKER, WHAT THE SHIT DID YOU JUST SAY?"

My face splits open with a huge, shit eating smile. Laughing as I speak, I choke out "I said... can I come into your house and fuck your fat wife in her ass, again. You hard of hearing, old man?" The audacity of the words I'm able to force out between bubbles of laughter cause a massive erection to tent my sweatpants, a fact that does not go unnoticed by Mr. Santiago.

Glancing down at the wet-tipped tent that is my sweatpants he growls "Oh you sick fuck, you sick sick bastard. Get the fuck out of here before I put you in the hospital." Rearing back his fat, calloused left fist he repeats "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE BEFORE I PUT YOU AND YOUR BITCH MOTHER IN THE HOSPITAL!"

Doubled over with my hands on my knees, gasping with laughter, I have finally had enough. Looking up from my position of recovery I give one command to this angry gorilla that stands over me, poised to strike.

"Strip."

Without hesitation Mr. Santiago grasps the bottom of his sleeveless t shirt and pulls it up and over his head, baring his hairy upper body. As the shirt passes his round face he asks "What? Did you just tell me to strip, bitch?" He kicks off his ratty, worn house slippers and then begins to push down his boxer shorts. As he steps out of them, shaking one leg to dislodge the flimsy material fully he asks me again "Well, bitch? Did you just tell me to strip? Answer me."

I stand up and stretch, raising my arms up and to the back, over my head. As I hear vertebrae in my spine pop with relief I say "Yeah, I did, and now you're naked. Nice balls, by the way. Get hard for me?" I lower my arms and stuff my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants, erection painfully straining against the grey material.

Tilting his head to the side Mr. Santiago says "You gotta be fucking kidding me right now, are you on drugs? What the fuck are you on, because I need some of what you got!" As he continues to berate me he begins to pull at his flaccid penis, drawing blood into the shaft. "I have half a mind to fuck you up for what you said about my old lady, you skinny fuck." As his erection reaches full-mast he continues "I'll tell you what. You say sorry, give me whatever money you have in your fagot wallet, and we'll call it even for today. What do you say, neighbor? I'm feeling generous today, you crazy fuck."

Smiling I push my sweatpants down and step out, leaving them on the lawn. "Yeah David, that sounds like a great deal. Do me a favor, and turn around? Place your hands on either side of the doorway, and stick your ass out for me, would you lover?" I begin to work my hand up and down my already rock solid erection, smearing pre-cum up and over the head.

As Mr. Santiago turns around and places his hands on the door frame he begins to sense that something is wrong with this picture. Confused, he asks "What... what's going on here? How the fuck are you doing this?" Spreading his legs he arches his back, pushing his white, hairy, fat ass up and out, causing his erection to slap light up into his beer gut. "You some sort of demon or something? " he asks with a tremble in his voice. "YOU THE FUCKING DEVIL, MAN?"

I walk up behind Mr. Santiago and place the head of my throbbing cock up to his tight, dark brown sphincter. "David, you feel that? That's the head of my big, hard dick. Do you feel that, Davie-boy?"

With false confidence he replies "Yes, hell yes I feel it, what the fuck do you think you're about to do, huh? Rape me in my own doorway?"

"No," I reply calmly, almost sweetly. "I'm not going to rape you, because you are going to ask me for it, like a good boy. Then your fat wife is going to bring me some lubrication, which I'm going to apply to your ass and my big, fat dick. Then I'm going to fuck you, in your doorway. Now speak."

In a calm, conversational tone Mr. Santiago says "Neighbor boy, please fuck me in my ass."

Mentally I summon his wife, who in a pink bathrobe wordlessly delivers a tube of K-Y Jelly, slapping it into my right hand. With a blank look on her face she glances at me, then her husband, and then retreats back into the dimly lit house. Jelly in hand I squirt a liberal amount into my palm, smearing it up and down Mr. Santiago's hairy man ass crack then wrapping the same hand around my cock, lubricating the shaft and head.

"Lean your head back, lover. I have a gift for you." Mr. Santiago pushes back on the door frame, bringing his bald, sweaty head back and to the right. With my left hand on his thick hip, cock poised at his anal opening, I wrap my right hand around his face, under his chin. Pulling his head back, I lean mine forward, bringing my mouth in line with his.

"Open wide baby." I gently order him. He opens wide, baring his coffee stained teeth. Pursing my lips I release a wad of spit into his mouth, watching as it lands on his pink and grey tongue. "Swallow, David." I instruct, which he does, calmly. Maintaining my grip on his head and hip I push my cock forward into his anus, meeting immediate resistance. "Relax; remember you want me inside you, right?"

"Yeah," Mr. Santiago replies "I want you inside me." with those worse I feel all resistance give way, and my cock slides easily into his lubricated, hair covered asshole. As I begin to establish a rhythm in his ass I tell him "Jerk your cock for me David, jerk your cock and cum for daddy."

Together we speed up, my dick plunging into his virgin ass, the slaps of our bodies colliding echoing in the hot afternoon air. Mr. Santiago begins to moan, a deep steady sound that starts low in his throat. "You going to cum? You going to cum for daddy all over your welcome mat?"

Looking up into my eyes Mr. Santiago replies "Yeah, I am. This shit feels good; I'm going to cum like a bitch. Like a bitch all over my welcome mat."

I'm mildly surprised by his ad-libbing, this gives me an idea. I stop pumping his ass, and ask "David, do you like this? Are you actually into what I'm doing to you right now?"

Nodding against the grip of my hand he replies "Yeah, this is fucking awesome. I know that you're controlling me, somehow, but I don't really care right now. Maybe this is a dream, a fucking weird one, but I don't want it to end. Can I cum now, daddy?"

With surprise I resume my thrusts, punctuating every other word of my reply with a jab into his bowels "Yeah David, you can cum. We'll cum together, and then you can make me a sandwich. How's that sound?"

Closing his eyes and speeding up his masturbation Mr. Santiago grunts and replies "Yeah that sounds great... I want to make you a sandwich. What a fucking weird dream this is."

As I feel my balls tighten and my cock swell inside Mr. Santiago's asshole I push it deep and say "This is no dream, David. This is just the beginning." I hear wet drops of semen splatter the mat as he releases his orgasm, body shuddering in my grip. Grunting I jab my hips forward and release my load into his shit hole, pent up anger and frustration towards the man in front of me flowing out along the river of my semen. As my cock pulses inside his ass he exhales and croons "That was great daddy, can we do it again?"

This was definitely not what I expected when I crossed the road fifteen minutes ago. I release his chin with my right hand and grasp his round hairy belly with both, positioning my hips and still embedded cock for a big slam. With a smile I say "You want it big boy, you got it. Get ready for round two, you fat, hairy fuck."

Before I can drive my point home, I hear a car in the distance, then two. I sense that something is wrong, terribly horribly wrong. I whip my dick out of Mr. Santiago's ass and tell him "Get inside and lock the door, we'll finish this later." He trips over his feet, stumbling into his home before slamming the door shut.

Bending down I pull up my grass stained sweatpants, my rapidly deflating, shit stained cock slipping past the waistband easily. Shielding my eyes with my hands I feel my adrenaline begin to rush, buzzing my nervous system and expanding my awareness. I feel mother in the house across the street, alert along with me, symbiotically sharing my energy. I feel hints of Mr. Johns quickly approaching, his 'signal' growing stronger as he nears. I reach out past him and feel for the other driver, drawing a blank. No, worse than blank... Erica.

Mr. Johns careens towards us in the car that his wife was driving, swerving wildly. He is followed closely by his truck, bouncing behind him with an empty truck bed - no bike. The pair speeds down the once quiet street and up onto mother's lawn, their momentum driving them into the fence that separates our properties. The Johns' beat up family car is violently rear ended by his truck, which rises up on its front wheels before slamming down onto all four. One last gun of the engine then it too grinds to a halt.

Mr. Johns tumbles from the driver's seat and to his knees, hands grasping mother's rich black lawn soil. Looking up at me we lock eyes, and as he mouths the words I hear them in my mind, as clearly as if I was there by his side. In my head he moans "Erica didn't run, she took out my wife, then came for me, you got to stop her."

Erica tumbles from the savaged truck, stumbling to her feet and glancing wildly around. An ugly gash mars her once flawless forehead, leaking blood in a steady stream down over her right eye. She turns and reaches back into the cab of the truck, emerging with Mr. Johns' favorite hunting gun, a Remington 7600 pump action rifle. She levels it at me with an ease born of practice and I know, staring across the street at those dark holes, my time is finally here.

I drop to my knees with my hands in the air and scream "I SURRENDER! I GIVE UP ERICA! TAKE ME INSTEAD!" I need to stall for time, until I can summon help.

"Instead?" Erica says with a sniff "Instead? Motherfucker there is no instead, you are the reason that I'm here. You started this and by god I'm going to finish it. You killed my baby girl!"

I glance over at Mr. Johns, who buries his face in the dirt, sobbing. What the fuck happened while I was violating my neighbor's asshole? I need answers, and I need time.

"Erica," I begin, earnestly. "I need to know what happened, let me make this right. With my power, I can make this all go away - let me help you." There is a glimmer of hope in her eyes at these words, something that was dead inside has woken up and been given a chance at a second life.

Crossing the street while keeping the rifle leveled at my chest she shakes her blood soaked head. With a voice thick with rage Erica replies "There is no making this right you son of a bitch, nothing will ever be right again. Close your eyes and say goodnight, you soulless monster."

Lowering my hands I rest them on my thighs, palm down. With a sigh I close my eyes, and say the only words she wants to hear right now.

"Goodnight Erica."

To be continued...