Owning the Neighbors

I could only sit in silence watching Shelia prepare a video.

She turned and smiled at me while hovering her finger over the play button.

She then said, "Honey, you're not going to remember being a cum slut. Trust me, you'll be just as happy for pussy. It's what you craved before you loved cock. I'm only reversing what he's done to you. But yeah, as mindboggling as it sounds, you'll be labeled a lesbian this time around."

She activated the player and dropped her night mask over her eyes. She then dropped to the floor and scuffled between my legs to finger me horny as the video played.

Since the very beginning, I had become overly sensitive to the brainwashing stimuli. Each time I was reprogrammed, it became easier to alter me and I submitted without a fight. As such, my eyes immediately locked on the pictures displayed on the TV screen.

At first, I was repulsed by the images displayed on the screen, but I was unable to turn my head.

Shelia went down on me to slurp on my clit causing me jitter in the chair and forcing me to grind my mound against her mouth.

As images of vaginas flashed before my eyes, I wailed, "Too many wet pussies! I can't bear it, please make it stop!"

Shelia then frenzied her mouth. As her tongue rapidly worked, I was becoming delirious and began to impulsively gyrate and moan.

Awed by my sudden reaction, she raised her head and uttered, "You're wet as hell. I can tell you're getting into it now. This is working, I'm so excited."

I was dazed and disoriented as my head lolled loosely on my shoulders.

As Shelia pleasured my pussy, I began mimicking the flickering tongues of lesbians as they ate their partners on screen. I was flushed and tingling all over.

As I'd often experienced during these sessions, time was incalculable when one was swayed by the program.

The intensity of this lesbian-making video was so impactive and overwhelming that it stimulated neurons in my brain that reconnected old pathways that were thought to have been eliminated.

I woke up. Literally.

I huffed and said, "Shelia, are we doing a kink thing? Tying me to a bed is more comfortable. Did we discuss this? I don't remember, but I like it."

Shelia jerked at my words.

She then pulled back and hesitantly raised the mask to the top of her head.

She glared with intensity at me with broad eyes as her mouth gasped.

I said, "Seriously, is this a sex game? What's with the girl-girl video?"

"Jesse?" she muttered.

"Ah, yeah, I'm right here—in front of you."

Shelia panicked and snatched my discarded panties off the floor and quickly draped it over my crotch.

"You're acting weird. What's going on?" I said.

Excitedly, she replied, "It's you?"

"Again, I'm sitting in front of you."

Shelia hastily began untying the ropes strapped to my wrists and said, "I can't explain it. Keep an open mind and don't freak out. You must see for yourself. Shit, I just know you're going to flip."

When my wrists were freed, I noticed my chest.

"Shelia—what the fuck!"

My hands flew up to clasp my boobies. I goggled my eyes and cried, "These are real!"

Shelia looked at me and replied, "It would be best if stopped kneading them or—"

"Oh my God, I feel like I'm about to orgasm."

She quickly shuffled between my legs and replied, "You'll be gushing all over the floor if you don't stop," and then tore my hands away from my breasts.

I glared at her with my mouth agape.

"There have been some changes," she murmured while placing my hands on the arms of the chair.

"What's happened to me!" I finally burst.

"I told you I can't explain it. A year has passed and you're not the same person as before."

"Sheila, I have fucking boobs. How can it get worse than that?"

"You have to look at yourself in the mirror. Please keep an open mind or you're going to lose it."

With a worried expression, she hesitantly moved away from me and then stood up.

I noticed the flabby skin of her stomach and her stretch marks. She said a year had elapsed, so what I assumed was quite probable. I said, "Did we have a child?"

Shelia saw me looking and tilted her head down with shame evident in her expression and refused to answer.

I shuffled up from the chair saying, "I don't understand. Why won't you—" and then I noticed my cock and balls were missing as the pair of panties covering my genitals fell to the floor.

I gawked at my missing appendages and mumbled, "Changes you said."

Shelia tried to distract my attention by saying, "The children aren't yours," and that only distressed me more.

Wide-eyed, I pivoted my head up and blabbered, "Obviously I can't father children. I have a god-damn pussy!"

I then rushed to the mirror.

I didn't recognize the female staring back at me.

Again, I clasped my weighty knockers with both hands and jiggled them in the reflection.

I stuttered, "I...I...I'm a woman. I don't understand."

Shelia gave a warning, "Please, don't touch your twat."

I turned to glare at her and dropped one boob to reach between my legs and I immediately swooned.

Shelia caught me before I hit the floor.

Shuddering in her grasp, I meekly muttered, "I orgasmed. What the..."

"The surgeon that did that to you was told to make you extra sensitive. You climax easily, eh, quite a lot I'm afraid. Sometimes you pass out."

"What's happened to us?"

"It's a long story. We experienced a year of horror, but we viewed it as bliss. Honey, it's not over. We're still shackled to that man. I'm bonded to his cock and you're chained to him by marriage."

"I'm what?"

Shelia said, "You're the wife of the man that knocked me up."

"What do you mean, I'm his spouse? You and I are married."

"That boat sank a year ago. It was the second thing he did to sever our connection. Your disappearance was considered abandonment. Our divorce was made legal by the court."

"I was a man."

"Mentally no, but It didn't matter. You were given a new identity with a birth certificate claiming you were born a girl. Then he made your genitals matched the text. Once you healed up, he married you. He's legally your husband, but you also have a plethora of boyfriends and family that use you regularly."

My eyes watered as I became emotional.

Shelia steadied me and then gently placed her hands on my cheeks.

Looking me in the eye, she said, "You wanted to know the truth, so I told you. He made us his willing whores, but you were always his favorite because you swallowed."

"I'm going to kill him," I exclaimed as my dainty fingers clenched into fists.

Suddenly that creepy chill swirled around us.

Shelia's face blurred and another was superimposed over hers.

I saw my feminine face staring back at me.

She replied, "Darling, you've mistaken the true purpose for this horror story."

***

FUZZY WHITE AND BLACK

Then the sexy phantasm kissed me on the cheek and whispered in my ear, "If you leave my house, I won't haunt your dreams and make that whimsical tale a reality."

I blinked and focused my gaze on Shelia.

She shook my shoulder and said, "Jesse, it's about time. You've been staring at static on the TV for a few minutes now and you wouldn't acknowledge me. Why did you even bother turning it on? We don't have cable service yet."

"What?" I mumbled.

She replied, "I need your help. There's a heavy box blocking the others. You're the man and you've got the muscle. We need to empty the trailer before dark."

I wiped the drool from my lip and said, "Box?"

She furrowed her brow and placed a hand on my sweaty forehead and said, "Are you sick?"

The air chilled and compress against my temples.

At that instant, my ordeal as Jessica burst into my mind with clarity. I relived the whole year in the blink of an eye and remembered every man I had ever sucked dry.

I immediately stood up and began patting my chest.

Shelia stared at me like I'd gone crazy and said, "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see if I have boobs," I replied and then reached into my pants.

She widened her eyes and muttered, "And now?"

I happily replied, "I still have my dick."

"Are you trying to be funny?"

I lunged and embraced her while saying, "Did you give birth to black twins?"

"Have you lost your mind?" she rebutted.

"I can't answer that yet. I'm still figuring this shit out."

"Well, the instant you decide you've gone nuts, don't tell me about it. Turn the damn TV off and come help me."

Shelia turned away from me and walked outside.

I sighed with relief and snatched the remote off the couch. My finger hovered over the power button with tribulation and I felt that familiar chill in the air. It was like I was replaying an event from earlier.

I mumbled, "Everything is fine? It was just a freakish daydream."

I then confidently tapped my finger on the button to turn the TV off. The fuzzy white and black specks on the screen dissolved to a pin prink of light and vanished.

As the annoying sound of static dissipated, I turned and began walking towards the front entrance.

Shelia appeared at the door and confronted me.

"Did you schedule to have cable service?" she said.

I stopped in my tracks and broadened my eyes.

I nervously replied, "Why did you ask me that?"

"A service van just pulled up. A friendly young black man with an accent says we're on his list."

"Friendly black man?"

"You're pale and beading sweat. I was right, you are coming down with something."

Wide-eyed, I then screamed, "Shelia, grab your purse and run to the car now!"

Fear surged me into action and my mind raced. The horror wasn't a delusion, it was a premonition.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" she said while snatching her purse from the counter.

I rushed behind her while huffing for breath and replied, "There's no time. You wouldn't believe me if I told you. You must trust me."

As we ran to the car, a younger version of the black man that I was quite familiar with casually approached from the side with his hand out.

Mr. Johnson uttered, "Jesse Martin?"

I yelled, "Fuck off, you're not impregnating my wife and I'm not marrying you!"

I then opened the driver's side door slammed it as I got in.

As Shelia buckled her seat belt, I triggered the locks.

The man stood next to his service van both befuddled and concerned.

I heatedly glared at the monster and inserted my keys to engage the engine. I revved the vehicle in reverse until the back wheels hit the road and then sharply turned the wheel and sped away. That was my one manly decision that saved us from a life of servitude.

***

Mr. Johnson scratched his head and returned to his van. He sighed and grabbed an electronic tablet off the seat next to him. The screen was scrabbled and specked with static. He frantically tapped the screen with aggravation and then snatched the mic for the radio.

"Dispatch, the scheduler is acting up again. It's the same damn house as before. It's the fourth time this year that I've been slated to show up at this specific time."

The radio speaker blared, "Mr. Johnson, you're not listed to install in that area."

Mr. Johnson blathered out an obscenity and hung up the mic.

"Every time I come here those uppity white people always curse me and then drive off like they've seen a ghost. Frankly, I'm getting tired of it and I'm done being a shoe print."

He mumbled to himself, "There's got to be a better way to make a living. Maybe I should start my own damn business to keep these white folks from looking at me like I'm a monster. This community could use a color change."

He glared through the windshield and remembered what the white man had horrifically screamed at him as he ran to his car.

"Impregnating his wife and marrying him. He damn sure wasn't a woman."

Strangely, a wicked idea stuck in his mind. He raised an eyebrow and mumbled, "He could be with a bit of lace and silky blond hair."

After cranking his van, he hysterically laughed as he drove off to develop a new business plan.

***

At the Martin residence, a parted curtain closed followed by a chilling breeze drifting down the hallway to the bedroom.

Suddenly a drawer opened on the dresser.

It was filled with frilly laced undergarments, bras, and underwear.

A pair of panties mysteriously moved over the top edge and then dropped to the floor.

***

The end.