Gramps' Legacy Ch. 04

This picks up the next day from the end of Ch. 3. As in the previous chapter, italics indicate telepathic communication.

Although this is categorized as incest, be warned, it also includes anal intercourse, non-consensual oral, anal and vaginal sex. and mind control.

*

It was nearly one o'clock, and Mom and I were just sitting down to have a cup of coffee and discuss dinner plans. From the back of the house, we heard the toilet flush and a few minutes later Pan sort of staggered into the kitchen. Not really staggered, like a drunk, but in the sort of unsteady gait one has when they've slept too long, or too hard, or, well you know what I mean.

She was dressed only in nature's robe, looking absolutely beautiful, in spite of the fact her hair was a mess, her eyes puffy from sleep, and her body covered with the various souvenirs of a night of wild sex. Coming into the kitchen, she caught the aroma of the fresh coffee, and her eyes opened wide, matching her smile. "Coffee! Yes! God bless whoever made the coffee."

She crossed the floor to the table where she greeted, first, Mom and then me with a more than friendly kiss. Mom's reaction was a puzzled look and then a smile. When Pan got to me, I understood. The pungent taste and aroma of pussy was so intense it nearly overpowered my other senses.

"Pan," I said, with a grin, "not to be unkind, or anything, but you have a bit of a B.O. problem." Mom had poured her some coffee and set the cup down in front of her.

Pan gave me the 'duh' look, as if to say "Of course I do! Are you stupid?" and took a long drink of coffee. "It's your fault," she said, her eyes closed as she savored the hot brew, "and if you think I smell bad, wait until Lande gets here. I smeared your late night gift all over her before she woke up."

"I heard that! Where are you, you perverted bastards? One of you goes about abusing sleeping women and the other destroys the evidence by mixing it with her own fluids and using it as body wash. You're sick, both of you!" We could feel her stretch, tensing all the muscles in her body and releasing them. "I loved it! Will, can you bring me some coffee? I'm going to shower and make myself presentable before I force myself on you and Connie."

She was just coming out of the bedroom when I got there with her coffee. "Thank you," she said, reaching up to give me a kiss. "Next time we have sex, can it be at a time when I can really enjoy it? Not so aroused that a breeze could make me come, or so out of it that I could have been fucked by an elephant and not been aware of what was going on, although I do seem to remember a rather nice variation of clit massage."

I just grinned and nodded, thinking about burying Charlie in that auburn colored carpet. I bent down to kiss her and caught a whiff of her odor. "Pan was right; you do smell worse than she does. Hurry and shower. Mom has waffle batter ready for you two. Shall I send Pan to join you?"

She laughed. "Not if you want to see us again today. I think that woman has a snake for a tongue. Whenever I got my pussy within two inches of her mouth, I couldn't get away from it."

"I'll tell her to behave..."

"But I'm not sure I would," she answered with a smile.

"Okay," I laughed, "but hurry; she needs to shower, too."

When I got back to the kitchen, I saw what Lande meant about Pan's tongue. Mom was on the table on her back, with Pan's head buried between her thighs. Mom's hips were bouncing off the table, while her hands, tangled in Pan's hair, were pulling the brunette into her pussy. The sounds coming out of Mom's mouth weren't human.

Between the sight of them fucking, and Pan's pheromone-laden odor, Charlie was bone-hard in a second. I walked up behind Pan and grabbed her hips. "About fucking time you got back here. Hurry and get in me; we're almost ready to come!"

I saw the butter on the table. On impulse I grabbed a some and smeared it over Charlie. I positioned him at Pan's pucker and pushed. "What?! No! Will, I've never...no, don't!!"

I pulled back on her hips while she tried to tell me to stop, but the butter worked just fine, and my glans slipped in before she got to "don't." I continued to push, while Mom and I played tug o' war with her body. From somewhere deep down in her belly, Pan groaned "Uuunnnnngggghhhh!" as my pubes bumped up against her butt, setting off Mom's climax..

I stopped and held still for a bit, letting Pan accommodate to having Charlie in her hitherto virgin place. "Bastard," was all she said, followed by a low moan. I began to pull back and continued until I felt her anal ring against my coronal ridge. I pushed back in slowly and immediately started to back out when I hit bottom. I kept that up for a dozen or so strokes each way, until it seemed to go easier.

I added some more butter and began to pick up speed. It was then I noticed Pan's head lying on Mom's stomach, and her ass moving with me. She was making small, short grunting sounds which got louder the faster she moved.

"Oh, shit, Will! I'm gonnna come I'm gonna... gotta... got... g...g... ooohhhhhnnggghhhhaahhhooowwww!!!!" If the neighbors had been home, I'm sure, they would have called the police to report a murder.

"What are you doing to my poor cousin?" I heard Lande laughing behind me, but wasn't able to answer right away as Charlie began to spew his cream all over Pan's bowel walls. Her hips jerked in reflex to its splashing heat as she let out a low soft moan.

"Get out of here, Lande," Pan panted. "We're not done yet."

"But I was promised waffles," she pouted, smiling at the same time.

"Then get us out of here, Will, so the witch can eat," growled Pan, "and don't you move away from me as much as an inch."

And then the doorbell rang.

"Shitfuckpissgoddam!" cried Pam. "It's the cops!"

I pulled clothes from the bedrooms for everybody and had us presentable in seconds. Mom went to answer the door.

"Will, they want to talk to you."

I went to the door where I was introduced to one Agent Carl Henry of the FBI. I invited him into the living room, the only room the odor of sex hadn't yet permeated. "Would you care for some coffee; it's fresh?" I asked him.

"Ahh, no thanks, I'm over my daily limit, but thank you." He pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit coat.

"We've had a request from our Albany office to trace the activities of a Miss Eileen Greene, aka Eileen Colie. We've been told you may be acquainted with her?" He handed me a photo.

"Eileen? Yeah, we're fairly good friends. Has something happened to her? You're FBI? Has she been kidnapped?"

"We're not sure. You asked that pretty quickly. Are you aware of any threats made against her?"

"No, just what she told me about her childhood. She ran away from an abusive person who had also abused her mother and forced her to abandon Eileen to him. She told me he demanded sex from her two or three times a week from the time she was twelve until she ran away when she was seventeen."

"That would have been Earl Colie?"

"I don't know. She never mentioned his name. What happened?"

"We don't know. She left her apartment a week ago to go to her work and never showed up, nor has she been seen since then. Her car was found in the parking lot of a small shopping plaza in Schenectady, with her keys locked inside. Was she involved with anyone else, to your knowledge?"

"You mean, was she dating anyone?" I shook my head. "No one steady, no one seriously." I paused, thinking.

"No, Will, you can't tell him about us, me and Pan. We can help you find her, but the police cannot know about us. Technically, we're both illegal aliens"

I gave Lande a mental nod. "Have any of Colie's neighbors seen him around his place recently? From what Eileen told me about him, he's not the kind of guy to forgive what she did."

"What she did?"

"She left without telling him, after he supported her for nearly seventeen years, even if he was raping her for the last five, and she took some money from him, money she said her mom had been sending for her." I paused, then asked, "Hey, I've got some friends who claim to be psychics. They're pretty good at finding lost things, keys, pets, kids, and so on. Would it be alright if I ask them about Eileen?"

Agent Henry gave me an exasperated look. "As long as you don't interfere with the official investigation, you can ask anyone anything. If you learn anything useful, here's my card," he said, taking out his business card.

"Okay, Agent Henry. I might have something by tomorrow. Oh, Eileen told me Colie kept his van registered in his mother's name, Swenson. Claimed that way, if he was ever in an accident, they couldn't take his house."

"Swenson, huh. Thanks, that might help."

"That would be the name on the Thruway auto pay gizmo, wouldn't it?"

He gave me an appreciative look. "Yeah, I think so. You wouldn't know his address would you?"

"Some weird town name, is all; Henrietta, or something like that."

"That's good enough. Thanks, you've been helpful. If you think of anything else..." He got up and walked to the door. "Or if your psychic friends..." he added with a wry smile and waved good-bye as he walked off the stoop.

Back in the kitchen, I found Mom and the witches gathered in a tight circle, arms around each other, with Lande muttering something just below my comprehension threshold. When they noticed me, Lande and Pan separated and pulled me into the circle. "Think about her the last time you saw her," Pan directed.

I was able to generate a mental picture of Eileen, lying on the bed, nude, her legs akimbo, waiting for me. "Something not quite so graphic, Will," suggested Mom.

"No, Connie; that's perfect, Will. Now, if you can, I know it was before you discovered your power, but try to get inside her mind, to get a sense of her, her mental fingerprint, as it were. Can you do that?"

Given the crazy kind of intimacy we had developed over the last couple of years, it was easier than it might sound. "I think I have it. Now what?"

"Since we have no idea where they might be, we will feed you power, like you did for Pan, while you search. Why don't you start with that man's home town?"

I nodded and began stretching out my mind, seeking Eileen's engrammes. It took nearly twenty minutes of intense concentration. It's certainly a hell of a lot easier to read a mind when the person's in the same room, and more or less conscious. When I finally recognized her, I realized I must have passed her over two or three times. I could barely read her until the women joined with me.

She was in that twilight state between sleep and awake when I finally was able to tap into her consciousness. The next next part of this narrative is her story, told to me by her when it was all over.

Eileen's story:

She hurried down the steps of the converted residence. Originally built as a double, it was now a five flat; the attic, converted to a loft which she shared with a friend from school. The street was almost empty since most of the people in the neighborhood were either young singles or empty nesters.

She was digging in her purse as she walked to her car. Part of her morning had been taken up with a telephone conference with her advisor, who had told her about her friend Will's grandfather. She planned on going out at lunch to get him a sympathy card and wanted to be sure she had enough cash.

She had just dropped her wallet back into her bag and unlocked the car when she sensed someone behind her. "Don't turn around," she heard a voice she'd never wanted to hear again say. "Get in the car and move to the passenger seat. No funny business or this ends here and now with you dead."

The voice brought back all sorts of emotions from the past. It was Earl, the man who had taken her and her single mother in after her grandfather, an evangelical preacher, had thrown them out of his house. Later, she had learned Earl demanded sex from her mother in return for his 'hospitality'.

Her mother had been required to participate in all sorts of degrading acts, including simultaneous multiple partners. Eileen had been forced to watch videos of her mother with four or five men at once using her body. When Eileen was twelve, Earl had tied her mother in a chair and forced her to watch as he raped Eileen. By the time he was done, the pre-teen wasn't any kind of virgin, and, by the end of the week, her mother had been forced out of the house.

For the next five years, through browbeating and physical intimidation, he had forced compliance from the young girl, educating her about his wants and needs by forcing her to watch the videos he had made of her mother. By the time she was seventeen, Eileen knew as much about sexual perversion and deviancy as the most debauched libertine.

Aware of her probable future with Earl, she had planned and executed her escape. Somehow, he had found her again. As he took the driver's seat, she resolved to do whatever she had to do to survive. "Earl..."

"Keep your fucking mouth shut, unless I ask you something, bitch!"

She cringed, hoping all he wanted was a revenge fuck, to get back at her for leaving and taking the money her mother had been sending for her. She recalled his routine the last several months she had been living with him, her senior year of high school.

He would come home from work, take off his coat and boots, grab her and drag her to the bedroom where, without saying a word, he waited for her to strip both of them. If she was too slow getting them undressed, he'd hit her, first a slap across the face, then a body blow if she didn't speed up.

Once naked, he forced her down on the bed, pushed a finger into her and finger fucked her to start her moisture, then he'd shove his 4-inch dick into her and pump until he squirted his juice. After ejaculating, he'd withdraw and pull her face to his groin and force her to suck him clean. Not until then would he say anything, and that was always, "How soon is supper?" She had learned early on that it had to be within the next fifteen or twenty minutes or she would get hard fucked again.

She expected him to drive to one of the cheap motels which ringed the city, but he surprised her. He headed into the Capitol District and continued into S-town, where he drove around for several minutes, as if he was looking for something. Finally, he pulled into a large strip mall, and parked behind the stores, next to a vehicle she immediately recognized as his work van.

Earl opened the door and turned to get out. "You come out this way, cunt, and no funny stuff; I'm warning you." His voice was low, and filled with menace. Eileen's stomach sank. She was sure this would turn out to be more than just the revenge fuck she had expected.

Earl dragged her to the back of his van and forced her inside. He was right behind her and forced her to her knees. "Give me your panties, cunt," he demanded. She reached under her dress and worked them down to her knees. He pushed her down onto her stomach and pulled them off her feet, balled them up and shoved them into her mouth.

"There, that should keep you quiet. Now, we'll have a little payback. I been missing your pussy and mouth since you been gone, 'n' I figure you owe me about three years worth of all-out fucking. It's time to start collecting."

She heard his zipper as he pulled it down, then his hand was rubbing her vulva, searching out her opening. His thick finger invaded her pussy and began to massage her cuntal walls, stimulating them to produce her lubricating fluids. "Fuckdam, girl, you're still as tight as a pinch purse! Ain't you been getting laid. Well, don't worry, Uncle Earl will see to it that you get plenty of cock up your slutty twat." And with that, he shoved what Eileen now recognized as a pitifully small dick into her. She almost laughed when she felt his penetration.

Earl fucked like a rabbit--several flurries of quick short strokes. True to form, it took barely a dozen such and he was squirting his spend in her. As he pulled out, she readied herself for the distasteful task of cleaning his prick, but he again surprised her. He pulled her hands behind her back, wrapped her wrists with some kind of tape and then went directly to the driver's seat, started the van and pulled into traffic.

There were no windows in the sides of the van, and when she attempted to move to see out the front, Earl snarled, "Get down and stay down, if you know what's good for you." From the stop and go, she realized they were still in city traffic. Eventually, she felt the van speed up and the traffic smooth out. She guessed they were on the expressway. Based on the angle of the sunlight coming in the rear windows, they were headed West, back toward the town where he had raised her.

From the traffic sounds she could discern through the sides of the van, Earl must have been driving relatively slowly, taking his time, letting even the tandem trailer trucks pass him. With nothing to distract her, or keep her attention, she fell into a troubled sleep, not waking until Earl pinched her nipple. "Hey there, cunt, did you miss me? I'm here to collect another one of the fucks you owe me."

He pulled her legs toward him, opening them, and pulling them over his shoulder. "Man that sure is a pretty little pussy you got there, Weenie," he observed, invoking a hated pet name he had used for her when she was a teenager. He positioned his face right over her vulva and drooled a large amount of spit directly into her vagina. He laughed and looked at her face, locking eyes with her, then straightened up and sank his dick into her, watching her eyes. She didn't flinch or react in any way. "Liked that, huh. I'll have to remember that." He paused, "so I don't do it again."

He repeated his rabbit like fuck, but before he squirted his seed in her, he pulled out and moved up to straddle her chest. "You bite, you die," he warned her, brandishing a box cutter. Reaching in her mouth, he grabbed the panty-gag and pulled it out. As she worked her jaws, he moved his hips forward and shoved his cock into her mouth. "Shitdam, girl, I missed this almost as much as I missed your cunt." He pushed his whole cock into her mouth and began his rabbit dance. It was only a matter of seconds before she felt his glans swell and her mouth was filled with his bitter deposit.

She looked up at his face, to see a look of evil anticipation, waiting for her reaction. With a total lack of visible emotion, she swallowed. "Good cunt. You keep cooperating, you might just live." Earl stood up, zipped up while straddling her, then reached down to retrieve the panties from the floor of the van. He shook the dust off them and balled them up again. "Open up," he ordered.

"Please, don't," she asked. "I'll be quiet."

"I know you will. Open up." He placed his foot on her chest, pressing just a little. He felt her body slump as she opened her mouth. "That's right; you just do as you're told. You'll get free of the gag soon enough." He pushed the panties back into her mouth. "Why not? It's not like I wiped your ass with 'em. Maybe I should, next time, or mine." He was sniggering at his own joke as he made his way back to the driver's seat. And they were back on the road.

There are seven rest stops between Albany and Rochester on I-90, the major East-West expressway between NYC and Chicago. Earl stopped at each of them. With some significant differences, they all followed the same pattern.

He'd park away from the other cars and make his way back to her through the van. Using the straps and other paraphernalia in the van, he'd arrange her like a porn star in some low budget production, then do his little rabbit dance, sometimes coming in her pussy, sometimes in her mouth. Once he fucked her ass and let his spend spatter all over her back. Without cleaning her up, he had just pulled her dress back down over her and returned to the road. Another time, he had pushed her dress up over her head and fucked her tits, the only time he paid them any attention. That time he had wiped the cum from her face with his finger and pushed it into her gag-filled mouth.