Neighbors from Back When

Today, she was wearing the hell out of a blue and white striped house dress, tight across her trim mid-section and plenty tighter across her ample chest, cleavage in abundance in a square neckline. Aside from having chestnut brown hair instead of that deep red, Susan was indeed her daughter's mother.

He didn't let his eyes stray lower.

Such thoughts were mostly banished from his mind by the time they were seated in the living room, him in his armchair and her on the loveseat, prettily crossing a pair of slender thighs. "Let me just cut to the chase, if I may, Mrs. Hooper. I know why you're here, and let me assure you thatnothing happened between your daughter and I. The whole thing was just a bizarre coincidence, and I promise you I would never take advantage of a girl Tabby's age. What happened was all because... well, it's hard to explain, but it was something a long, long time ago, when I was just a stupid, misguided kid with a crazy science experiment that I was sure had never worked. To find out it was still operating after all this time, and more insane still, that it had worked... I was as shocked as I'm sure you were. If you need any help, erm, disabling it, I'd be happy to, though I understand completely if you'd prefer I keep my distance, considering. And again, just to stress the point, absolutely nothing happened between us. I never laid so much as a finger on her, hand to god."

Finally, he stopped to take a breath, looking for a reaction from his guest. Anger, confusion, understanding, concern, whatever.

What he got instead was the sudden appearance of a bright grin and a vapid giggle. "So, would you like to lay a finger on someone?" She uncrossed her legs, leaving them far enough apart to make him certain she wasn't wearing panties.

"Mrs. Hooper! I... no, I wouldnot like to lay a finger on a married woman! Why would you..." He paused. This had happened already once this week, and he wasn't entirely dense. "Say, the master bedroom wouldn't by any chance share a wall with Tabby's, would it?"

"It sure does. You wanna see? I'd be happy to give you a nice long tour of my bedroom, Master!" She giggled again.

I sighed. What on earth had he done to this family? Had it affected this woman's husband, too? And if so, how? DJ imagined him fondling his nonexistent titties and begging him to take his ass. Flattering, but not exactly his scene.

Then Mrs. Hooper took her dress off.

There was no fanfare, no ceremony or seductiveness to it. She simply stood up, reached behind her to undo the zipper, and lowered it to the ground. She was stunning. DJ had seldom seen women her age -his age - who'd kept themselves together so well. Flat stomach, matronly - butsexy matronly - hips, well-rounded boobs... If they weren't as perky as her daughter's so be it; these at least were a woman's boobs, not the practically pornographic impossibility that rendered Tabby practically a cartoon of femininity.

Like her daughter, her pussy was totally shaved. He had to wonder if that was a deliberate instruction from his recording.

When he didn't answer, she just went on. "Or would you rather fuck me here? Just pick a hole - or my cute little titties! - and we can do it. My cunt belongs to DJ Gaspar. My ass belongs to DJ Gaspar. My titties belong to DJ Gaspar. My mouth belongs to DJ Gaspar."

"What about your heart, mind, and soul," he muttered dryly.

"Oh, like, totally those too!" And she proceeded with that aspect of the chant. The chant that had infested his dreams these past few days.

"You've definitely taken care of yourself, Mrs. Hooper, I've got to hand it to you," he said, mulling over his options.

"Oh, just call me Suzi!" Her only other response was to giggle, fall to her knees and crawl to his feet. There she nuzzled at his rapidly growing erection through his pants.

He could do this. Hell, he owed it to himself, didn't he? The thought of another man being given such an opportunity and turning it down was laughable. Insulting, even. It's not like this was his fault. Not really. She was an adult woman, capable of making her own... well, not any more, but still. Not like she was a virgin. Tabby was evidence enough of that.

"Go on. Suck it."

"Yaaaay! I can't wait to find out how much I'll love sucking Master's cock all the time like the big dumb cock-sucking slut I am!"

"Yeesh, teenage me laid it on pretty thick," he muttered.

Suzi clapped her hands giddily and tore into his pants. He was springing forth into the open air in mere seconds, and Mrs. Hooper - Suzi - gasped in delight. His cock was pretty close to full mast as it was, but she immediately gave her palms a couple thorough licks and starting jerking tenderly.

And somehow, when he should have been paying attention to a dozen other things - the rapturous delight on her face, the feel of her hot breath on the tip of his cock, the way her tits bobbled side to side as she worked - but no. He had to seize in on the least convenient detail of this whole glorious moment.

There, moving rhythmically up and down his shaft, was her wedding ring.

"Suzi, stop."

She looked up at him. "Was I going too slowly, Master? I'd be happy to drag this out all night if you want. I practice on my hubby all the time so I'd be ready if I ever met you. I'm a very skilled cock-sucker, honest."

"You're amarried cock-sucker. Err, woman. Come on, up up up." DJ helped her to her feet, but she looked none too eager to be standing instead of kneeling.

"Oh, but it smelled so nummy ummy, Master!" she pouted. "You know, if you think I'm being a bad, bad girl, you could just bend me over and smack my bad little ass. Would you like that, Master?"

"Nope, we're getting you dressed, and you're going back to your daughter and your husband."

Dressing her took more prodding and demanding than it seemed like it should for a mind-fucked sex slave. She kept offering to let him fuck the parts she was putting clothing back over, asking him to give her "a nice case of cum-breath to gloat to Tabby with," and so on. Finally he got the dress and coat on, and held the front door open for her.

"But... a huge mega super slut like me needs to be fucked all the time!" She stamped her feet crankily, but DJ nonetheless whisked her out the door, almost forgetting to give her back her umbrella.

"When can I see you again?" she called through the door. Though she was more discrete out in public, like her daughter, he couldn't miss that when she was asking toseehim, her tone said she was asking tofuckhim.

"Don't call me; I'll call you. OK? And for the love of god tell your husband I don't want to see him either. Now go home." There. Firm. He watched her walk back to her car, where she spent a few minutes not-so-subtly groping her breasts and quite possibly fingering herself. A bizarre enough sight, but a hundred times more so when he realized Tabby was sitting in the back seat staring at his front door with a look of raw lust.

Then the car drove away, and they each maintained their stare until the vehicle made a turn and they were gone.

DJ Gaspar didn't get much sleep the next few nights. Never one to remember his dreams, he compensated by reliving his encounters with Suzi and Tabby. How eager they'd been. How generous. How fucking sexy.

He found himself going out of his way to drive by the old neighborhood, just to see if he could catch a glimpse of them. The most he saw was a light going out once in Tabby's bedroom. Which presumably meant Tabby was in there. In bed. What kind of pajamas was she wearing? Any?

But he had done the right thing. He at least had that solace. He'd come as close as a man could come to having his will break, but he'd kept to the high road. It was probably the most difficult choice he had ever made. Maybe it had been twenty-some years since he'd hatched that scheme to enslave Brianne Levett, but he had come face to face with the truth that the things that had lit his pilot as a young man still did. One more lascivious offer, one more glimpse of those breasts, one more inane giggle... he would have broken, for sure.

So DJ did what he could to keep himself occupied. He worked late. He hit the gym. He reorganized everything in his house he could think to reorganize. Little by little, the passage of time allowed him to resume his normal routine, and the whole incident was on its way to becoming a memory. A very vivid memory, but a memory only.

(Had Tabby turned 18 yet?)

(No. No, it was still wrong. More or less. No.)

Then one Saturday afternoon, there was a knock at the door. DJ figured it was his neighbor's kid with the girl scout cookies he'd ordered. Mrs. Wong had said she'd be by this weekend. DJ shuffled over to the door, wallet in hand, and opened the door. Where he was met with the visage of a total stranger, a redhead probably in her early 20's.

But despite never seeing her before, he had no doubt as to her last name.

She had her little sister's red hair but her mother's hazel eyes, and the trademark Hooper hourglass figure. Curves for days, just like the rest of the family. They were much better concealed beneath a simple yellow sweater and beigeslacks, but he only glanced rather than stared.

After all, the woman had a gun pointed at him.

"Don't say a word," she said in a low voice. She gestured for him to move back, then followed him in and shut the door behind her. In spite of her command he found his mouth opening to ask for a chance to explain, but she cocked her gun, his jaw clicking shut the next instant.

"My name is Jessica Hooper. I think you know my family. And I think you know why I'm here, you son of a bitch."

She hadn't said he could speak, so he merely nodded. She was slowly advancing on him. Not knowing what else to do, he just kept backing away.

"I don't know what you did to my parents and my sister, but you were damn sloppy about it. Imagine my surprise when I visit home, thinking I'll surprise my parents and take them out to dinner, and instead find..." She shuddered. "At first, I thought I'd slipped into some alternate reality. Both of my parents fired from their jobs, Tabby dropped out of school... everyone perfectly content with it. I asked and asked what had happened, but they all just kept giving me the same vague bullshit about how they'd reexamined their priorities."

She finally pushed him far enough that he fell backward onto his armchair. Where Suzi Hooper had crawled to him and begged to suck his cock. At least he'd die in the company of a happy memory.

"When I couldn't get any details out of them, I started doing some sleuthing. I couldn't get anything out of their bosses or from Tabby's school, so I had to go with what we had on hand. And what do I find but an old letter from school about a truancy. My sister's been a worse and worse student ever since we moved to this town when she was in elementary school, but she's never been one to break rules or cut class. So I ask her what's up. She turns bright red and gives me this bullshit lie about meeting some friends. Pathetic lie. Then she runs into her room, and I thought she was crying, but no. I listen at the door, and she's in there..."

Her glare intensified, and DJ worried she might pull the trigger than and there. But she took a deep breath and continued. "So I ask Mom and Dad about it; Mom says she dealt with it and not to worry about it. Except I point out that she obviously didn't, because Tabby got kicked out of school two weeks later, and I tell her how when I asked Tabby about it, she slammed the door in my face so she could jill herself off. You know what my dad said to that?"

DJ shook his head.

"Nothing. He just laughed, like it was nothing unusual. Mom just said not to worry about it, and changed the subject. So by now, I'm in full-on pod people paranoia mode. Only as I think about it, something clicks about her saying she dealt with it, so... I go to her car, check the GPS history, and see that two days after, Mom made a visit to a residential address I've never heard of. I asked her, as casual as I could, who she knew there, and you know what she does?"

"Run to her room and...?" He couldn't finish the sentence. Hot, yes, but also a potential trigger for the trigger lady.

"Penny for the smart fellow," she said sarcastically. "So now I know I'm on to something. I couldn't find anything online about who lives here, but one of your neighbors gave me a last name. I run a search. Not from my phone, but from my mom's. You're not connected, I find, but I see another friend by that name, recently added. Maggie Gaspar. Your mom, right? I call pretending to be a debt collector, and she insists her dear Dwayne would never fall behind. Seems your mom thinks a lot of you, eh Dwayne?"

He winced. That sure sounded like his mother.

"So here's what's going to happen. You're going to fix whatever you did to them. Then I'm going to let them decide what happens to you - and if they need my gun to do it, I'll happily provide it."

"You're not really giving much incentive," he said as boldly as he dared. His mouth had never been so dry.

"Or you can refuse, and I can blow your fucking dick off and let you bleed out here and now. Sound better, Dwayne?" She lowered her aim to his crotch.

"DJ," he mumbled.

"What was that, Dwayne?"

He cleared his throat. "It's DJ. You talked to the only person in the universe who calls me Dwayne."

She frowned. "Wait. So you're... DJ Gaspar?"

DJ nodded, cautiously looking for something he could use as a weapon if he got the chance. The lamp was probably a bit heavy, plus it was plugged in so he might fumble it mid-swing...

Then she dropped the gun.

And giggled.

"Master! Oh my gosh, this is SO embarrassing! I'm, like, SO sorry. You don't even know. I was totes ready to shoot you and stuff! Is it cool if I take these stupid ugly clothes off?"

DJ was too stunned to respond, so she did just that. Mind reeling, he stared in stupefaction at yet another big-titted fair-skinned redheaded woman stripping for him.Another.

"Much better!" she said once she was naked. "Is it cool if I do some jumping jacks? I need to warm up my little titties if I'm gonna be able to fuck you with 'em!"

"Uh..." was as far as he made it before she commenced with the jumping jacks. It was incredible how the display quickly calmed his nerves. (He still set the pistol in a drawer and turned the safety back on, just in case.)

"I. Like. To think. Of ways. To shake. My itty. Bitty. Titties. For D. J. Gaspar," she said slowly, staggered between each bounce. And what bounces.

"Hang on a second... I'm sorry, what was your name?"

"It's Jessica, but you can call me Jessi! Or whatever else you want!"

"Hang on a second, Jessi." She halted her bouncing, watching him excitedly. "Did you, by chance, have a room next to your sister's?"

"Nopers! She was down the hall from me. But then when I moved out, she took my old room."

DJ slapped his forehead. Of course. He vaguely remembered that Brianne Levett's little brother had had a room down the hall. Per tradition, the older kid got the bigger room. "How many years did you live in that room?"

Jessi counted on her fingers - slowly - and arrived at six years, then shared that figure. "And now Tabby's been in there for, like, four. Why?"

"I don't suppose you'd object if I told you that I did something to that room that slowly brainwashes anyone in it or near it into being my sex slave, would you?"

At that notion, Jessi giggled hysterically. "Like, why would I be against that, Master? You totally deserve me as your sex slave. You're the smartest, handsomest, coolest, sexiest, hottest, fuckablest-"

"I get it, I get it. And you don't mind that I did that to your family?"

She shrugged. "I think being your fuck toy is totally the bestest. Tabby might suck sometimes, but not so much that I'd be mad at having to share you with her."

"Now let's get another thing clear. Do you have any other siblings? Anyone else at all who would have slept in or near that room on a regular basis?"

She shrugged, then a few more shrugs when she saw he liked how it made her bare boobs jiggle. "We had sleepovers and stuff, if that's what you mean. But nobody else lived there."

"Thank goodness." He sighed with relief.

"Would that be a bad thing?" She looked confused. It was as if learning his identity had drained 40 points off her IQ in an instant.

"Of course it's a bad thing! Your sister's eighteen, and your mother's a married woman! To say nothing of the fact that brainwashing people into being your sex slave is just... well, I never meant to do it to you guys, but the less it happens, the better."

Jessi nodded along with him. "Right, right. I never thought of it like that. I wonder if that's 'cause I just became your sex slave, or because my stupid fluffy girl brain doesn't work too well." She giggled. "For what it's worth, coming from a girly girl like me, I'm super happy to be your fuck toy, Master. Just the way you're looking at me, it makes all the years of diet and exercise, just in case I ever met DJ Gaspar, totes worth it. I've, like,never been this happy."

"You... for years..." He struggled to make sense of it. No wonder Suzi was in such amazing shape for her age. "Still, you're only happy about it because I made you feel that way. On accident."

"Accident, Master?"

"Yeah. I built the device that brainwashed you when I was barely into puberty for a girl who used to live there, and I had no idea it was doing anything. You and your family are the product of the hyperactive and apparently intensely misogynist libido of my thirteen-year-old self. So if you're happy about it, it's only because some horny kid twenty years ago hatched a plan to make women happy being stupid, submissive sex objects."

Jessi weighed his words, but it was obvious nothing was getting through. "Like... so? Would it be better if I was less happy but you'd taken me to dinner and bought me, like, jewelry or whatever?" She made a face at the notion of being treated with respect. "I'd totally rather be my sexy master's fuck slut with a family full of fuck toys than be a lame, gross, smarty smart girl with a gun. Like, who would wanna fuck me holding that thing?"

"Not me, that's for sure."

"See? So, like, who cares if Mom has a husband or Tabby's like, what, half your age? And she's totally eighteen anyway, if that bothered you. I bet she was super sad you didn't fuck her on her birthday. I know I'll be super sad any day you don't use my hot slut body."

The logic was absurd. Only a total piece of shit would be seduced by this rubbish, these ideas that were just his own depravity coming out of someone else's mouth. Someone totally selfish, totally devoid of responsibility for the way his pursuit of pleasure affected others. He absolutely couldn't take advantage of these women like this.

"Come on, Master. Don't you, like, owe it to yourself to pursue your childhood dreams?"

DJ's cock was utterly spent. He was laying on his sofa with his head reclining on Jessi's lap and his feet in Tabby's. Both girls were softly stroking him, gazing down adoringly at their master. Their mother knelt beside the couch, lapping at his flagging shaft. She didn't expect it to get hard again, not after spending the day fucking the living daylights out of her and her daughters. She just felt better having it in her mouth.

"Thank you for spraying me with your nummy ummy cummy, Master," Tabby said with a dreamy sigh, scooping another half-dried blob off her cheek and sucking it off her finger, eyes closing in rapture.

"Thank you for fucking my cute little titties, Master. I hope they weren't too teensy weensy for your big, fat, delicious, throbbing dick," added Jessi, one of whose massive boobs were currently resting on his forehead.