Owning Cousin Stacey
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2019 by Mark Gander

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Simon, a schoolteacher in his late 20s, returns to his hometown in East Texas and finds that his cousin Stacey is married, but very much into him, anyway. He also learns that he inherited a butt-load of wealth and property from his uncle, including ownership of Stacey.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Mind Control   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Crime   Magic   Sharing   Slut Wife   Wife Watching   Incest   Cousins   BDSM   MaleDom   Rough   Spanking   Group Sex   Harem   Orgy   Polygamy/Polyamory   Swinging   Anal Sex   Analingus   Double Penetration   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   Petting   Pregnancy   Squirting   Teacher/Student   Nudism   Revenge   Royalty   Violence  

As I came balls deep inside Stacey’s tight, hot ass and pulled out of her, I heard a cough. It was Aunt Trish, Ellie’s legal guardian, who looked a bit plastered on both booze and something else, though I couldn’t tell what. She wore a tank top and stonewashed jeans, both of which she ditched in a hurry. She already grasped what this was about it seemed. She openly ogled my cock as well as Ellie’s twat and Stacey’s ass ... and then Duane and Vince. The knowing looks that she gave us proved that she knew both of the White brothers very well indeed.

“I see that you found out about ... them and Ellie, right? I knew, of course. I let them hump me ... and Ellie, for enough cash to keep me in style, well, combined with the weed that I sell. How do you think I got to know them? They like their weed and I think that Stacey here does, too. I never liked working a normal job. I like to set my own hours and get high and drunk whenever I wish. So, now, I don’t. So, what’s it to ya? What do you want from me? Clearly, you’ve been fucking her, too, along with Stacey,” Aunt Trish answered, pushing her pink hair away from her face as she reached for some Southern Comfort that lay on the dresser.

“Well, for starters, I know that you’re also doing her, and while that’s illegal, so is what we’re doing here. Okay, so here’s the deal. I’d like you to marry Duane here and move in with us. It does mean toning it down a little, being sober now and then at least, and since you don’t want to do a regular job, you’ll have to find another way to earn your keep. Cam girl or something like that. But you’ll have to keep up with your hygiene, take daily baths or showers, that kind of thing. I don’t care if you go stark naked, though. Feel free to do so if you wish. You’ll just have to be clean as a whistle as you do it.

“This will also make me the de facto guardian, even if not the legal one. When Ellie turns eighteen, I plan to marry her, but understand that marital status means very little in this house. You’ll keep it all hush-hush about me sleeping with Ellie, all of us will, so none of us land in jail and so that I can teach, which I love to do. Ellie and Stacey are both my sluts, and now so are you. Are we clear about this? Duane and Vince are both benefiting from this deal, so they won’t mind, will ya guys?” I slapped both men on the ass to drive home my point and my dominance.

“So ... all of you men will be screwing each of us lady ... and what about other men and women? Other partners? Are they allowed, too?” Aunt Trish inquired, making me throw back my head in laughter.

“Only on my terms, Trish. MY terms. I own you, I own Ellie, and I own Stacey, as you can see. Now, in your case, I know that it’s more about what I can give you. However, as you can see, that’s a lot of material comfort, a lot of pomp and circumstance, a lot of fuss and bother about wealth, access, that kind of thing. A life of luxury and pampering. Yes, I know that you basically pimped out your niece to several men, but that ends tonight. I own her now. I decide who fucks her, Stacey, and you. I, not you. Are we clear about this? Consider it a game of Simon Says,” I chuckled.

“Well, you’re the boss, I guess. I mean, hell, all I gotta do is obey and I get to be fucked by three men and two women at least, including my own tasty little cutie of a niece. She’s quite yummy, isn’t she? I could so get used to parting her thighs every night for the rest of my life, that’s for sure. She’s getting better at eating me out, but the truth is that my favorite part of it is eating her.

“I can still taste her pussy and ass on my tongue from the last time that I went down on her. To be honest, I never want to give that up, and if that means getting bent over and fucked hard up the butt or twat for the rest of my days by whoever you say, so be it. It’s so worth it to get to lick and eat that sweet young thing you plan to marry whenever I wish,” Aunt Trish confessed, stunning us all.

“Okay, if you’re that sincere, you’ll agree to some special limits on your freedom and do it with a smile, ones that affect only you and no one else. Are you ready to agree to them, ahead of time, not knowing what they are? All of them? Are you prepared to face the full price of unconditional access to Ellie’s holes for your tongue? If you consent to this, we’ll always find a way to give you access to at least one of her holes whenever you ask for it, even if it means that we have to pull out for a moment or two and wait our turn,” I demanded to know, curious as to just how truly committed Aunt Trish was to her love of Ellie’s delicious pussy and ass.

“Yes ... yes, please! Pretty please! I don’t care what price I must pay, as long as I get to go down on Ellie as much as I wish! Her going down on me’s a nice bonus, but I’d do without that forever before I’d give up eating her out. She knows it, too, don’t you, baby girl? Wasn’t most of our sex together spent with my lips and tongue in your yummiest parts? Juicy teenage twat is the best, tastiest thing of all. Well that and nice, slick, sweaty teenage ass! Whatever it is, make me do it, as long as I get to eat her out for the rest of my life!” Aunt Trish pleaded with me by now, even as I cupped Stacey’s ass and Ellie’s in front of her.

“Well, first, you’re going to get that chili and more booze, weed, and whatever else we want and need for an all-night bacchanal. Then you’ll rush back and do exactly as you’re told, down to the nth degree. I don’t want to hear any arguments, either. Are we clear on that? I own you, just as I own Stacey, and yes, I own Ellie now. Hell, I own Duane and Vince now, don’t I, guys? I’m a collector, it seems. I collect playthings. That was always my big fantasy, anyway. A harem full of sluts to own and fuck to my heart’s content. I settled for being simply a swinging bachelor as opposed to the worst cases, such as a monogamous husband, or worse, a celibate or cuckold of some kind! Run right back, Trish,” I ordered Ellie’s aunt before turning to Stacey.

“Go get Uncle Troy’s will. I’m ready to hear his last wishes for you and me, among others,” I instructed my first plaything, my sweet cousin Stacey, who kissed the head of my cock to thank me for butt-fucking her earlier.

“You’re gonna love what you hear, babe! Trust me on that, cousin! I can’t wait to suck this cock straight from Ellie’s ass and Trish’s, too. You like how I cleaned out, Master?” Stacey showed me that she was quite safe taking me ass-to-mouth, much to my relief and delight.

“Well, Stace, it seems that your mouth is mine, too, isn’t it?” I told her with a slap to her delectable bottom as she winked at me and wiggled it for my benefit.

“Always, Master. Always has been. Always will be,” Stacey practically skipped her way to get the last will and testament of my eccentric uncle.

By now, Ellie purred and sidled up to me like a very affectionate cat, planting kisses all over my skin with brazen desire. One thing that I knew for sure was that I would keep her naked as much as I could, just as I would with Stacey and Trish. I also pictured her in a bridal gown with Trish as de facto mother of the bride and Stacey as matron of honor. Vince could be my best man and Duane could give her away as if he were the father of the bride. He was still her boyfriend, after all, and quite a bit her senior. I could imagine my cum, Duane’s, and Vince’s all mixed together, running down her thighs and staining her garters and stockings beneath her wedding gown.

Trish returned with the chili, along with the weed that Ellie had stashed in the foyer, where all of them had chilled out earlier. She also grabbed the first bottle of Southern Comfort, five tumblers, and some ice, though this took a second trip. Stacey came back just seconds after the second trip, carrying some more chairs so we could all sit down as we ate and listened to the last will and testament of S. Troy Flanagan. My first shock came right out of the gate.

“I, Simon Troy Flanagan, being of sound body and mind, at least near as I can tell, do hereby declare this to be my last will and testament,” Stacey winked at me as she read that part aloud.

“The ‘S’ stands for ‘Simon,’ does it? I was named after Uncle Troy? What’s that about, I wonder? I wondered how my parents decided upon that name. I always got the impression that Dad never cared for the name. Then again, Uncle Troy was’s Mom’s brother, so maybe there was bad blood between them. There is still much about their marriage that never quite made sense to me. It’s always been a very bizarre mystery to me. I just know that Mom and Dad were never that sane on the best of days, either of them.

“Dad just walked out the door to visit parishioners one day and never came back. I was eleven. I never saw him again. After that, Mom just ... popped pills, drank like a fish, and spent more time in psych wards than at work. They let her go and I got sent to Aunt Wendy’s to live from the ages of fifteen to eighteen. Mom sobered up toward the end and tried to get custody of me back, but I was seventeen by them and it was far too late,” I recalled, still hating my parents, but hating Aunt Wendy even more.

“Would you believe that your mother now lives with Aunt Wendy? I know, I know, you’ve disowned both of them. I totally get that. Mom and Dad never quite understood why, but I grasped that you hated them both something fierce. It must have been a really intense hate founded upon some real abuse or neglect or both. Those three women, none of them really ... got along with Uncle Troy, with each other much, with each other’s partner’s, or with any of their nieces or nephews. Three sisters, all of them a bit odd or nutty, only the one brother having any sanity at all. I guess I should watch out. Insanity in our mothers’ family runs in the female side, it seems,” Stacey told me with a very loving hug.

“It skipped your generation at least,” I kissed her ardently on the mouth.

“Yes, thank whatever God or Gods or Goddess is out there!” Stacey blurted before resuming the reading.

“Be it known that, having already made all of my donations to charity in my lifetime, I hereby bequeath half of my earthly goods each to my son and daughter, who are also my nephew and niece. Yes, I sired them on my sisters, though Mary and Kelly Flanagan had theirs claimed by their new husbands, Manfred Schultz and Barry March respectively, and Wendy Flanagan turned hers over to an uncertain fate, alive or dead I cannot tell, hence my splitting my estate in two parts rather than three. My poor sisters, much like the idiot women on the Witches of Eastwick, too cowardly to face social scorn, snubbed me and treated me as persona non grata after enjoying my body and my seed.

“I could handle a fling or break-up, but these, my gutless, spineless sisters, wanted to deny my paternity entirely, pretended that they hadn’t enjoyed the harem and incest life, married in a rush so that their husbands could get credit for my two surviving children, and apparently let them think that they were the actual fathers in two cases. Hence, not being Jack Nicholson’s sad character in said film, I got the sort of revenge that they cannot control or prevent. I cut them off entirely from my estate, my will, my life, all of it and left it directly to my two known children.

“Now, in case my son and daughter want to know the ugly truth about my family, our family, let’s be frank here. Ours isn’t just some typical Irish family. We have Jewish, Greek, Italian, Irish, Cajun, Lebanese, Romany, Nubian, and Trojan ancestry. Yes, that’s right, Trojan. We are direct descendants of King Priam of Troy, who fled Troy and ended up on the very same island that Odysseus did, sometime later, that of Calypso the Nereid. Yes, she was black and still is. Long story on the Nubian nymph. Not enough time to get into that here. Suffice it to say that the ‘Black Greece’ myth is just a myth, except in her case. She was and is a beauty to behold, the nymph Calypso. When Odysseus departed, King Priam washed up on her shore, and he was far more grateful for her affections.

“However, due to having tried to hold Odysseus up, Calypso was punished by the Goddess Athena by not being able to make Priam immortal. Which was a mercy to him, anyway. She was able to comfort him in his final years of exile on her isle, but not dwell on his losses for too long. He died at eighty-five years of age, having sired three sons and four daughters on her and her companions by that time, elderly as he was by then. He didn’t get to see more than the firstborn son come of age. I suspect that she was able to prolong his life a bit, but not deny Death in the end.

 
There is more of this chapter...
The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.