Chapter 8

“Hey, what gives, Stacey? Why are we meeting here?” Wendy Flanagan demanded of her niece, while her sister, my mother, Kelly Flanagan, stared off into space for a moment.

“All will be revealed in the due course of time, Auntie,” Stacey snickered wickedly.

“Perhaps I can assist with that,” Manfred Schultz announced himself now.

“Okay, Fred, what’s the deal? We know that you were never ... fond of us, after all. Then again, I never liked Jews myself, except for Stacey, and she’s only sorta Jewish. We all know who the real Daddy was, don’t we? While I loathed Troy, at least he gave a fucking Jew like you some cuckold’s horns, something well-deserved in my book,” my aunt exposed her own anti-Semitic views in her frosty greeting.

“Fuck you, too, Wendy. You have quite a few groups that you hate: men, Jews, married men, unmarried men, gays, lesbians, bisexuals, etc. Not everyone’s a committed celibate like yourself, you know. You’d make an excellent nun, except that you also hate Catholics and the Pope. What do you seem to love is the fine Texas chili, I have to say, but that’s gonna cost ya. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, after all, is there?” Uncle Manfred chuckled now, even as Aunt Wendy grew increasingly dizzy, just moments after her own sister spaced out.

“What did you put in this ... chili?” Wendy slurred her speech now, even as she heard Kelly giggle uncontrollably.

“Just a little love,” I smirked as I entered the room now.

“Simon?” Mom recognized me in spite of her drugged state, while Aunt Wendy was more than a little slow to react to my presence.

“That’s the name you gave me, isn’t it? Don’t worry. You have a new home. The bad news is that both of you now live under my roof, which means putting up with and obeying MY RULES! Simon Says that you are both to sell your places or discontinue your leases and move in with us!

“Simon Says that you are both to gather all of your clothes into bags based upon their utility, too. Simon Says that both of you will burn which bags I command you to burn. Simon Says that both of you will now transfer all of your wealth and assets to me as well,” I ordered both ladies in such a way as to make them completely, financially dependent upon me.

I had some revenge to exact upon both my mother and aunt, and I didn’t wish for them to dare to attempt an escape. If it meant poverty, they would likely balk at fleeing before my vengeance was inflicted on them. Besides, they would make excellent pets once they were broken, right? By using Manfred and my ladies to help me control them, I further invested them in their fealty to me, of course.

Of course, I could also forbid the ladies to even attempt to escape. Yes, that would help as well, once they safely arrived under my roof. I would keep them very much under my thumb now, the perfect payback for how they once abused and mistreated me. They especially owed me for that stupid, hateful circumcision business, and I would collect with interest on that particular debt. Of course, this was just the beginning of my plan to settle scores while I established my reign. The world would be my oyster, like it or not.

For now, though, I was ready to have some fun, and I wasn’t alone there. When Wendy and Mom came to, they were both bound in the dungeon to certain bondage furniture, the former in the pillory, the latter on the spreader bar. They were also naked and their asses were filled with butt-plugs for now. Furthermore, they had ball gags in their mouths to ensure their silence.

I could sense fear on their faces, and understandably so. Here, they were, drug, bound, nude, mind-controlled, and gagged, at the mercy of their nephew and son, respectively, to say nothing of their other remaining kin, namely Stacey, Uncle Manfred, and me. They were even more shaken when I flipped the switches on the vibrating butt-plugs in their bums, too. They squirmed badly from the combined pleasure and pain of being at my command for my use. They also chafed at their bonds, but in vain.

There was absolutely nothing blocking my next move, even as I slid into Aunt Wendy’s furry twat from behind and swore to myself that she would lose that fucking patch of pubic hair if it was the last thing that I did! It was more than an inconvenient forest of bush. It was a symbol of her awful attitude toward men. That was something that I fully resolved to change, and not just with her.

An entire generation or two ... or more of women would need to have their views on men radically transformed in my book. Aunt Wendy was just an extreme case of this problem. My cock still remembered her push for circumcision and what it cost my Johnson in terms of sheer sensation. I blamed propaganda, not horrible men. There were always awful people of both sexes, but not until the militant feminists of the Second, Third, and Fourth Waves came along was this a real cause of social disorder.