Geis Ch. 19

Chapter Nineteen: Ruin

Trigger Warning: There is some homophobic and even transphobic language and thought in this story. Remember: this is fiction, and James is not a good guy. Don't be like him.

Months Ago...

Even living as James' slut, Paige still had bills to pay. In fact, she now had more since she had to support him, and she would never be so bold as to push him to do anything to contribute to the family beyond fucking her senseless. So, she went to work every day and sometimes worked two jobs while James stayed at home and kept himself entertained with television, beer, and sometimes other women.

Paige knew that James was building a small harem and thought nothing of it. He was always hard enough to fuck her when she wanted it, and even if he wasn't, he was the only one who could satisfy her anymore anyway. She didn't have the leverage to fight him on it, so she embraced it, instead, satisfying herself with being the only one he would end up marrying and doing everything she could to keep him happy outside of sex.

James, meanwhile, spent a lot of time at home in the living room. Sometimes, he would leave to visit Allyson or other sluts he was cultivating and collecting. The rest of the time, he sat alone letting the TV melt his brain while he downed one beer after another. Sometimes, he grew angry when no one was there to bring him a beer. He thought of his growing harem and considered keeping one of them as a maid, but he had planned his revenge and needed them all working if it was to be the way he wanted it to be.

Fucking Paige in the ass had given him an idea, however. After seeding her bowels while watching Oliver, it occurred to James that he already had someone at home who could serve him. Oliver was a reclusive who almost never left his room, and while James knew he snuck out to get food at night, James rarely if ever saw him or was made aware of his presence. Normally, that suited James, but he didn't care at all for having someone in his house, eating his food, without contributing a bit to James' personal pleasure.

James didn't know what was wrong with Oliver, and he honestly didn't care. All he knew was that Oliver was anxious all the time, never leaving home, not even for school. He had dropped out and was now at home all the time, eating James' food and spending James' money. Paige, already burdened with caring for James, was furthered taxed to support Oliver. She had already resented Oliver before James arrived, and now James resented him, too.

Being watched by Oliver had turned James on, though. James wasn't gay, but he liked the look of awe on Oliver's face as the young man had watched his mother come. There had been disappointment in his eyes, too, as well as understanding. In that understanding, James saw his leverage. Oliver was a weak thing, tall but thin, and so afraid of the world that he wouldn't leave home. James saw no reason why he couldn't bend Oliver to be his bitch in the same way, to have a live in slave who cleaned up after him so that Paige could better fulfill her duties as a slut.

He went to Oliver's door to intimidate him, pushing his way in without knocking and finding himself disgusted by what he found. Oliver, a hermit in his own home, lived in squalor. His floor was littered with dirty, unwashed clothes and half-finished food caked onto unwashed dishes. Oliver himself, half-hidden the last time James saw him, was in a similar state. His hair was long and greasy, his nails unclipped. He was wearing old pajamas pants and a long shirt and, at a glance, looked almost like his sister only in a state of distress.

"James," Oliver said suddenly, his eyes wide as James suddenly seized him by the hair and dragged him out of the room by force.

"The fuck do you think you're doing," James growled. He shoved Oliver up against the wall and held him there as he moved in close to him. Oliver winced, eyes closed, whimpering as he stood against the wall. He didn't fight, he just flinched, afraid of the violence which James might visit upon him. James saw this response and nearly laughed in his face. "Let me ask you something, you fucking pig. This your house?"

Oliver stayed quiet, not speaking until James slapped him hard across the face.

"I asked you a fucking question. Is this your house?"

"No," Oliver whined. His legs almost buckled, and James readjusted his grip on Oliver's hair to hold him in place.

"Then whose house is it?" This time, James punctuated the question with a slap.

"My mother's," Oliver whimpered.

"Wrong!" James slapped Oliver again, and Oliver opened his eyes to stare James in the face. In a way, he looked almost like Kendall used to when she was scared. They had the same light brown hair, the same grey-blue eyes, the same nose and lips. Oliver's face was a bit longer, his chin slightly more pointed. He was skinnier, too, but that made him look feminine. "You were there. You heard what your momma said the other day. She's just a stupid, shameless slut, and she's so dick-drunk on me that she don't own nothing anymore. She gave it all to me. Which means, what, Oliver? What does it mean?"

Oliver, cheek red, eyes open and wet, stared at James and spoke slowly, in a frightened whisper. "It's your house."

James surprised Oliver with another slap, this one harder. "Then who the fuck do you think you are treating my house like this?" As he said it, James turned Oliver and threw him back into the musky bedroom. Oliver landed among the filth face fist, his weak legs unable to support him as he pissed himself.

"I'm sorry," muttered Oliver, scrambling onto his back and retreating as James stomped back into his room. Oliver stopped against his bed, tears in his eyes as James towered over him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"You will be sorry, nasty ass," grumbled James, taking hold of Oliver by the hair again and dragging him to his feet. He pulled Oliver after him into the hall and led the stumbling young man into the gust bathroom. "Can't believe I gotta fucking wash you like you're a fucking baby," he growled, tossing Oliver carelessly into the room and then following him inside.

The guest bathroom is small relative to the private bathroom which Paige has downstairs, and James' big body filled most of the space as he entered. Oliver, facing away from James and toward the shower curtain, turned quickly and winced as James reached around him to turn on the hot water. Then, opening his eyes, he found James towering over him and staring down at him, a hard, cruel glare fixed on the bigger man's face.

"Go on," James said, the growl never leaving his voice. His anger was synthetic compared to what he often used on women or what he would use later, but he projected it well enough to frightened Oliver into compliance when he said, "Get naked."

Oliver shook, even hesitated as he stared James in the eyes. The sting in his cheeks had him moving, though. He had his shirt off when his eyes landed upon James' bulge and, though he had seen it before, he had never been this close to James before. He could smell James now that they were trapped together in the room, a powerful, masculine scent too thick to ignore. Staring at James, Oliver forgot himself to a sudden wave of arousal that swept over him, foreign and frightening, and he was left stunned until James struck him across the cheek again.

"The fuck you doing, you fucking retard? I told you to strip!"

"S-Sorry," Oliver muttered, and he moved again. He stepped out of his pajamas and stood in a pair of stained boxers. Oliver was skinny, a scrawny boy who appeared to James to be more like a lithe, flat-chested woman. In fact, he looked almost exactly like his sister except for the straight hips, slender thighs, and missing breasts.

Oliver's boxers came next, and James burst out laughing. Oliver was small, far smaller than average. Completely erect, he was less than half of James in length or girth. Compared to James as he was, Oliver would have been miniscule, but compared to James as he had become, Oliver wasn't even a child. More embarrassing was the fact that Oliver was hard, harder than he had ever been in his entire life. She blushed to hear James' laughter and moved to hide himself, and James smacked him again.

"Don't hide it," he laughed. "Holy shit, that's all you got? That tiny little dicklet? Absolutely fucking pathetic," he said, and he took Oliver by the throat. Opening his pants, James pulled his own cock out and showed it off to him. James was hard now, too, his thick, pulsing shaft drawing Oliver's attention as soon as it came out. "No wonder you keep staring," he said, holding himself up next to Oliver and comparing them. "Ain't never seen a dick like mine before, have you, faggot?"

Oliver shook his head, his eyes fixed on James. James held him gently by the throat at this point and was not hurting him at all. Even if James had, Oliver wouldn't complain. Watching James with Paige had shook Oliver, dislodged something inside of him that he didn't fully understand. James owned Paige, and now seeing James up close, Oliver felt owned, too. He understood his mother's submission, and he wanted desperately to be like her.

James pulled the curtain on the shower, freeing a wave of steam into the room, and he shoved Oliver inside. "Get your stinky, piggy ass in there."

Oliver staggered inside, bracing against the wall as the hot water poured over him. He hated the feel of it but felt emboldened by James' presence. He was being given orders, and he had to obey.

In the shower, James made Oliver shave. Oliver had little body hair at all and was able to remove all of it with relative ease. His face was smooth, like a woman's, and his armpits, arms, legs, and dick had only vague wisps. The removal of his pubic hair, thin as it was, did nothing to improve Oliver's proportions. If anything, it only made him more pathetic, which made James harder.

Oliver shaved his legs last and was seated on the edge of the tub when James approached him from behind. His long hair had gone dark with water as James' dick came into view beside him. He was just rinsing his legs when he noticed, the smell of James overwhelming him as he turned to gaze with open longing at James' massive shaft.

Behind him, James poured shampoo into Oliver's hair and began scrubbing his scalp. He could feel his greasy hair foaming as he held his dick to Oliver's cheek. "Like my dick, faggot?"

Oliver stammered, unsure of what to say. Even the smell of the shampoo was weaker than the thick scent of James' natural musk. He could feel James' pubic hair tickling his left ear alongside the heat of James' hot, veiny shaft against his face. "Yes," he murmured.

James laughed. "Course you do," he said, shoving Oliver into the water. He let Oliver rinse the soap out of his hair and then turn to him. Oliver swept his long, wet hair back and stared up at James, whose massive dick bridged the distance between them. "Sluts like you always love big dicks like mine." He poked Oliver's pouty pink lips with his cockhead and said, "You seen your momma suck me, ain't you?"

Oliver nodded emphatically. He had watched her, astonished at her depravity as she cleaned James' filthy dick. Now, he envied her with a hunger that was not like him, a hunter which almost frightened him with its intensity.

James smiled and, gathering Oliver's wet hair, pulled him to the edge of the tub. The water was going cold across Oliver's back, but Oliver hardly noticed. He was clean shaved now and looked almost identical to Kendall. James held himself to Oliver's soft cheek and chuckled. "You're gonna suck me just like she did. Got it?"

Oliver, staring James in the eyes, kissed James' cock delicately and whispered, "Yes, sir."

James almost came from that but held himself back. Instead, holding himself by his hairy root, he stuck Oliver across the cheek with his hard dick before feeding Oliver his fat crown. Oliver took him willingly, staring him in the eyes still as his pink lips stretched to accommodate him. Comparing Oliver to Kendall and seeing their similarities had been where it started, but the wet warmth of Oliver's virgin mouth was a pleasure in itself. Oliver was a scrawny thing, hardly even a man, and his look of speechless awe was difficult for James to ignore.

Lifting his leg, James repositioned himself, giving himself better leverage to fuck Oliver's mouth. He forced Oliver deep and found the scrawny man doing nothing to fight him. Instead, Oliver sat with his hands on his lap, his tiny dick leaking precum as James barreled into his tight little throat.

"Fuck," James growled, astonished at the unexpected skill Oliver showed. Oliver breathed around him, grunting and gurgling quietly as James held himself in place. James turned off the water and watched Oliver, who closed his eyes, choked briefly, and then started moving on him. Holding Oliver by the hair again, James forced himself deeper and, to his surprise, heard Oliver moan in response. "You like that, don't you, faggot?"

Eyes closed around him, mouth and throat full of him, Oliver could only moan in response. "Mmhmm," he purred, moving along James with pride. He had seen James' astonishment and felt good to have been providing a service to this superior male. It had been a shock to see his mother submit to readily, but now having been exposed to James himself, Oliver could understand completely. James deserved worship, and it was just Oliver's good fortune that he was given the opportunity to provide it.

Twisting Oliver's hair around his fat fist, James cupped the back of Oliver's head and held him there while thrusting forward. Oliver choked after taking a third of his dick and stared James in the eyes as he did it. Lust and submission were clear in his eyes, looking almost like an exact replica of what Kendall would someday look like choking on him, James was sure. James, overwhelmed by the thought, thickened and withdrew, astonished by the natural talent Oliver seemed to possess.

Towering over the kneeling, wet Oliver, James stroked himself while grunting like a beast. "Fucking nutting," he growled, and Oliver moaned. Hands on his lap, he stared up at James in passive obedience as James spewed across his face and into his mouth. He swallowed what he could, showing considerable skill again as he chugged James' thick sperm. It took three thick ropes before he choked and even then, James held him there as semen backed up and gummed up his nostrils.

Seeing Oliver sputter, James freed him and stroked off onto his hair and face. Oliver took it without a fight, his eyes watery and face red as James painted him white. When James finished, Oliver sat up, wiped his chin clean, and stared up at James. James offered Oliver his dick, and Oliver sucked him clean as he had watched Paige do before. Oliver was a mess of semen, saliva, and tears, but he still looked beautiful all the same.

"Nasty fucking faggot," James said, and he laughed as he cock smacked Oliver across the cheek.

Oliver giggled in response and kissed James' shaft.

Guiding Oliver by the hair again, James held him in the center of the shower and turned on the water. It had gone cold before and had not had enough time to warm adequately, so Oliver as shocked back into awareness but unable to move. James laughed as Oliver struggled for the first time. "Liked my cum better, didn't you, faggot?" James spanked Oliver across the bottom until Oliver was still, and then dragged him out of the shower once he was clean.

After that, Oliver was made to kiss James' dick again before being allowed to towel off. As Oliver dried himself, James issued orders. Mostly, it was things for Oliver to clean, but the highest priority for Oliver, of course, was keeping James supplied with beer.

Paige came home hours later to find a tower pile of trash gathered at the curb. Since James had moved in, she hadn't been able to keep up with cleaning and, in truth, was never much of a housekeeper even before he came along. At first, she thought James might have cleaned up after himself, but the number of bags indicated a sizable purge and a level of effort she wasn't sure that James could commitment to.

"Besides, he doesn't do anything for free," she said to herself, climbing out of her car and passing the bags with a look of suspicion. She knew he had a whole harem who might have served him, but he hadn't called them over for that before and couldn't see why he would now. He had enjoyed anal, but she doubted it was as life-changing for him as it had been for her.

True to form, Paige found James half-naked on the couch. He sat with his legs spread and his pants off, his thick cock resting fat against his thighs. She smiled to see him, her entire world changed by him and by his impressive cock. He was the man of her house, and while he might have been a terrible person, he was exactly the man she needed him to be for her to be happy.

She hung up her purse and joined him on the couch with a smile. "Hello there, handsome." Seated beside him, she sniffed his armpit and traced her fingers along his cock. He smelled different, perhaps even a little cleaner. It was not unwelcome or even unsatisfying, just unexpected. Leaning forward, she kissed his neck. "Mm. I noticed you took out the trash, baby. Thank you for that."

"Weren't me," he said without even looking at her. "It was Oliver.

Paige sat back with surprised, her eyebrows raised as she looked at James, laughing. "He did what now?"

James reached out and put his arm around Paige again, pulling her back into him. She followed willingly, breathing in his armpit a second time while returning her hand to his hefty cock. "I went and had a man-to-man talk the little faggot."

"Oh?" Paige chewed her bottom lip at James degraded Oliver. Being single, she had never gotten to hear him degrade a husband or a boyfriend. Mostly, he had degraded her, and she had been fine with that. Hearing him call Oliver a faggot was a strange mix of arousing and upsetting. She felt ashamed of Oliver, even as she felt turned on by James' crude language.

"I told him if he's going to stay in my house, then he's gonna pull his fucking weight around here."

"I see," said Paige, seizing him around his fat shaft and stroking him as she planted gentle kisses along his neck and chin. "Well, aren't I lucky to have you as man of the house, then?"

"Damn straight," James growled, and he pulled Paige into a kiss as she squealed and giggled. Oliver, meanwhile, was busy finishing his room, throwing away anything he didn't need and working in underwear, as James had banned him from dressing after the initial blowjob.

Present Day...

Today is the day she is moving, and Kendall paces restlessly outside of their home. She is dressed to hide her figure, wearing a long, heavy shirt to obscure her heavy breasts and her wide hips. She wears a baggy skirt under that, the fabric of which hangs to her ankles. Her hair is up in a practical, boring bun.

She and Jackson only have one vehicle, a four-door sedan, to move with and are relying on Jackson's family to help them. Jackson hardly ever mentions his family, Kendall notices, and seems just as nervous as she is about them meeting. He doesn't discuss them much, but Kendall can tell that Jackson has tension with his parents, particularly toward his mother, though she cannot figure out exactly why.

It is a warm Summer morning. The sky is slightly overcast with predictions of it clearing up through the day. For now, there is a lot of moisture in the air. Kendall is watching the girls while Jackson calls his mother to ask where she and his father are. Kendall can only hear part of the conversation through the open front door as he paces inside. They are arguing about his mother wanting to bring a guest from what she can hear. Kendall intends to talk to him about it after he hangs up but soon finds herself distracted by her own phone when she receives a message from her mother.