Grandfather the abuser becomes...?

You sighed and looked over at the one face that you hoped you would never see again. Your grandfather, though he had been changed the longest, still haunted you and your dreams. It was due to his beating of your mother and your sister that you were just as warped, just as dark, just as bitterly sarcastic as all fuck not, that you hated it with every fiber of your being. People often talk about how they were driven to achieve much due to success, dreams of riches or fame, or even the naive altruism of sincerely wanting to help people.

You wanted to hurt the bastard.

Your grandmother was equally as abusive, though you supposed getting her hooked on your cum was punishment for being an absentee figure in your life. She was already at the point where she was drastically different than what she originally appeared before becoming afflicted, her body incapable of sustaining itself without daily ingesting of your cum. She couldn't travel, she couldn't work, focus, even taking care of herself if you didn't provide her with a pipette, or three, per day for the foreseeable future until ****. Plus, as much as she fought you, the slut could not turn you down. You suspected, a bit more deviously than you would've thought earlier, the changes to your body now would overwhelm the slut. There was just no use for her to pretend anymore. For good measure, you ran your fingers on top of her panties and you could feel the dampness at her body's subconscious reaction to your touch. Bitch had it bad.

Your parents, if you could call them that, looked no older than late 20s (your dad looked like he had regressed to a late teenager, you suspected that he couldn't go out in public without being carded for sure.) Both were equally screwed when it came to being able to function, them too were stuck with needing you and your sperm either ingested or absorbed. There was a moment you were concerned about knocking them up, as you were sure that your sperm was potent enough. Lord knows you filled Monica to the brim several times already.

Monica, too, laying there was someone you wondered if you should put her into the position where she would be at your beck and whim until **** do you part (guarantee your **** would be the same as hers, though the body without your sperm would be an agonizing way to go.) Still, there was a line that you would not cross and the fact you found yourself (admittedly) falling into love with your boss was something that ultimately turned you away from condemning her to a life that was just above depraved indifference.

No, you had made your mind up the moment you came into the house, the moment your eyes fell upon the person, and you turned and picked up your bag and took out the last remaining vial, placing it into the multi-**** needle contraption, and pressed the top. After hearing the fatal click, you smiled ruefully as you placed it this time not on your skin but slid it between your transformed grandfather's legs, finding him wet and easily using your fingers to spread his legs a bit more. He moaned even in his **** state as you slipped the applicator into him and when you were satisfied that it was as deep as you could make it, you pressed the button and watched as the fluid inside flowed into his body.

"You really did that, didn't you?" came a voice and you just smiled, not bothering to look up as Sam slipped into the room and looked at the rest of the people laying there. "You took your **** on him?"

"No...this is just the start, Sam. This fucker's gonna get 20 years worth of shit and then some..."