	             ____________________________
                    |                            |
                  /)|     KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF    |(\
                 / )|         DIRECTORIES        |( \
              __(  (|____________________________|)  )__
             ((( \  \ >  /_)              ( \  < /  / )))
             (\\\ \  \_/  /                \  \_/  / ///)
              \          /                  \          /
               \      _/                     \_       /
                /    /                         \     \
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o



Day in Denver (MF+ MC)
By: "E.Z. Riter" <ezriter@hotmail.com>
Date: Jun 5, 1998



The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for
adults in locations in which it is legal.  If it is illegal in your
location, DO NOT read.  This is a copyrighted work.  Reposting or any
other use strictly prohibited without the express, written permission
of the copyright holder, except may by posted as part of a  review or
posted to free-access, noncommercial archive sights.

Copyright 1998 by E. Z. Riter.

Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com

This is a mind control, multi person romance with a planned fifty plus
chapters. 

Please!  Give me your comments.
 

MY INHERITANCE

Chapter 33

A Day in Denver

Mom, Dad, Abby and Betty had left to drive to the airport. I had to
put all four of them in trances to make them quit asking why Cathy was
not going home with them. After the trance, they understood Cathy was
going to live with us until further notice and asked no more
questions. 

They did not know she was going to live naked in my dungeon, my
prisoner until I had another way to keep her securely. As I thought
about Cathy there, naked, the steel collar around her lovely neck, the
heavy chain locked to the thick O-ring embedded in the concrete, my
cock twitched and I shivered. 

I kissed Mom and Dad the way a son kisses a parent. When I kissed Abby
and Betty, I let my hand roam over their bottoms, checking to make
sure the butt plugs were still in place. Both of them giggled and told
me they understood the plugs were there until they could accommodate a
cock up their behind with reasonable easiness. Both of sisters gave me
sweet kisses on the lips, although Betty did flick a little tongue and
gave me a slutty look when she broke the kiss.

I checked on Cathy, gave her a bathroom break, locked the house,
loaded Mary and Andy in the Suburban and headed toward Denver.  We had
a noon appointment with Maria. As you remember, Uncle Bert said she
had one of the final two pieces necessary to replicate the formula. 

Mary was driving and I was in the back seat to catch a little nap when
I felt a tap on my leg. It was Mary tapping me.  When she caught my
eye, she nodded at Andy, who was riding shotgun. Andy was crying
silently.

"Hey, hey. Come here, kitten," I said. 

Andy shook her head and refused to look at me. I tried cajoling her
but to no avail. Finally, I ordered her into the back seat with me.
She could not refuse an order.  She was a kitten. But, I did not order
her to talk to me. She sat in the corner, scrunched up against the
door as I tried to figure out what was wrong.  I asked Mary but she
had no idea.  

Finally, I tried the old-fashioned way. I yanked her on my lap and
made her sit there. She squirmed a minute, then settled down. The
squirming was delightful and raised other interests, but there is a
time and place for everything. She put her head on my chest and
sniffled.

"Okay, Andy, what is wrong?"

"I understand, Davy. And, I love you. I will always love you, no
matter what."

That was cryptic and very female.  I thought about her comment just an
hour ago, when she was so bubbly and happy. You remember that comment.
They are mysterious creatures. 

"No matter what?  What does that mean?"

If I did not know better, I would have guessed Andy had hurt feelings
over another woman, which is jealousy, in essence.  But, she was
programmed not to be jealous. I did remember when she was anxious over
Lisa.  Andy had said then she just did not want to be abandoned, that
she wanted to be a big part of my life. 

Uncle Bert had programmed Mary and Andy in interesting ways.  If he
was going to program her not to be jealous, why leave a hole so she
was disturbed over other women in my life. I mean, the gave me all
those kittens.  I know he must have had the same problem with Mary.
Andy sniffled and spoke.

"Cathy."

"Cathy?"

"Yes. Cathy."

"What about Cathy?"

"You don't love me, do you?"

"Of course, I love you.  I love very much."

"Aha! I knew it.  You love Cathy more than you love me."  

She was sitting up now, those blue eyes small and pointed, burning a
hole right through me.  I bet every male reader is saying yes, that
sounds like my woman. And all of you ladies are saying, who, me? Now,
if I really wanted to get rich, I would program woman not to do this
to us men.  Guys would pay a lot for that, I know. But, then, look at
how much fun we would miss in working out the problems. 

"Oh, Andy, I love you much, much more than I love Cathy or anybody
else in the world."

"No, you don't. You keep her protected, hid away where guys can't get
to her or even see her, but you let me walk around, just free as a
bird. See!"

She began to cry again, not hard, a few tears and sniffles. I said
nothing.

"Oh, Davy, I don't mind you fucking other women.  You know that. I
enjoy seeing you with them, seeing you happy. I enjoy being with them,
for you, because that makes you happy. You know I will do anything to
make you happy, sweetheart. But, oh, I just want to, well, I want,
dammit, I want to be number one!"

"You are, sweetheart. You are."

I spent the rest of my way to Denver talking to my favorite kitten.
You know how things go. We talked, with her tense and cold on my lap
as I cajoled and wheedled. Then, she started to relax, to understand I
did really love her. She started to feel guilty about accusing me
which made her want to cuddle, wrapping her arms around me, her breath
hot and sweet on my neck, her breasts crushed against me.  She had
been shifting in my lap for some time.  We kept cuddling, touching,
whispering, making up.  Making up makes me horny (okay, I am always
horny). You know how things go.

"Hey, you two! We are in city traffic here," Mary called out as Andy
and I crawled into the back of the big Suburban where we could lie
down.  Andy giggled. 

"It's okay. So what of someone sees us," she whispered, her eyes
aglow. 

Is that the same woman who was crying half an hour ago? Then, reason
kicked in. Oh, well. There was always tonight.

As I lay in the back of the Suburban with Andy nestled in my arms, I
watched the looks from the drivers of trucks and pickups staring in
the windows at us. We were totally dressed but still they stared. Andy
did not notice them, or, if she did, she did not care.  She was happy
being in my arms.  While she was there, I thought. I thought long and
hard until we reached Maria's house.

Since her name was Maria and I was to ask for a recipe for tamales, I
presumed Maria was Hispanic. Wrong. Maria was Polish and lived in a
lovely brick house in a nice suburban neighborhood with kids playing
in the street and bikes everywhere. She was about sixty-five, a lovely
widow who had raised four children and buried a husband after a life
long marriage.  We had a delightful visit before I put her in her
trance. 

When I asked for the recipe for tamales, she went into the kitchen.
In a moment, she returned with her recipe folder, which was yellowed
with age.  She sat down by the lamp and put on her bifocals.  Mumbling
to herself, she sorted through the T section, finally withdrawing an
envelope, which she handed to me. 

On the outside was neatly printed, "Open in private." We said our
goodbyes to Maria and jumped back in the Suburban. Andy was at the
wheel.  Mary was on the cell phone checking the messages.

"Where to, sweetheart?"  

I gave her the name of the store and she turned beet red.  Then, she
giggled and headed us out. I had told her to go to the exotic boutique
where I bought the neat bondage stuff. 

"We have another stop to make," Mary announced.  "Lisa called. Her
plane for Denver left LA ten minutes ago."

Lisa!  Damn!

I had not thought about her in the last few days but I had told her
she was welcome to return, under certain conditions.  Remember, Lisa
was my old girlfriend.  Andy uncovered her deep submissive bent which
we started developing before she went back to LA for Christmas. Now,
she was coming back.  I was glad to have her but the timing could not
be worse with Cathy in the dungeon and me on the edge of getting the
formula. But, I could not leave Lisa sitting at the airport. I would
have to work it out somehow.

I pushed Lisa out of mind for the moment and opened the envelope.  It
contained a poem.  Of course, Uncle Bert was no poet but his intention
was not to create art.  It was to give me a message, I hoped a message
that would put just one step from the end of my treasure hunt. 

Here is what he wrote: "Kittens sweet, bound as one by woven fur, Paws
entwined to the cows' own rhyme, First heard long ago in summertime,
One sings the song, while the other purrs."

Uncle Bert was cryptic sometimes, although I knew exactly what he
meant, and you probably do, too. Isn't it interesting how he always
manages to work sex into everything? He was a horny old tom cat. 

At the exotic boutique, I bought what I thought I would need for my
kittens and for the two women in my life who were not kittens, Cathy
and Lisa.  Then, I got an idea.  I talked to the proprietor, borrowed
a tape measure and took Andy into a dressing room. I had her strip and
started measuring her.  I was measuring her entire body, particularly
all the dimensions of her crotch. All of them, such as the length and
width of her pussy. Of course, when measuring someone, you have to
touch them and I always like touching Andy.

" Stand up straight and quit quivering."

"I can't help it. What are doing down there?"

"Measuring your pussy. Be still."

"I can't be still. You try to be still when someone is measuring your
pussy."

"I don't have a pussy."

"You know what I mean. Oh, Davy, haven't you measured enough?"

She was starting to drip and whimper. Our session in the car had us
both a little on edge, so to speak. When I locked the dressing room
door and dropped my pants, Andy giggled, her eyes big, her face wild.
She turned around and bent over, bracing herself on the small bench
and wiggling her ass, as if I needed direction or encouragement.
Doggie style, I slid into her, hands on her hips as she pushed herself
back into me.

"Quiet, little lady."

"Certainly, David. Very quiet, I think would be best."

We tried to be quiet but quiet is a relative term. There in the
dressing room area we sounded really loud to me. I heard another
dressing room door slam, then another.  Soon, we heard other people
pounding away, balls slapping against pussies, moaning, whimpering.
The smell of other pussies wafted through the air.  Sweet Andy came
quietly as she always did when programmed this way.  I slipped out of
her without ejaculating, turned her around and let her clean me up in
her own, most delightful, way as she knelt on the floor.

When we left the dressing room, Mary was grinning like a hooker.  The
owner of the boutique was nonplused. He just grinned and said, "good
for business."  I gave him all my orders, took what was ready and
left. 

"What did you special order, Davy?" Andy asked.  

"Something for you. Now, it is a surprise. Don't ask again."   She
wanted to ask but could not since I had given an order. With a sigh,
she tucked her arm through mine and leaned against as we walked out. 

Denver International was wild with people. After all, it was three
days after Christmas.  We arrived at the gate a little late to find
Lisa already off the plane and wringing her hands with worry, although
people were still exiting her flight. The three girls ran to each
other, hugging and chattering as I waited. Then, Lisa walked over to
me, looking very shy. She was red faced with excitement, unable to
stand still.  It was good to see her again and she looked wonderful. I
wanted to hug her, but we needed to start properly.

"Welcome back, Lisa.  Did you come on the terms I set out?"

"Yes, sir," she whispered, not looking at me but with her eyes
downcast. 

"What are they?"

"As your slave. Your complete and total slave."

You know I really like Lisa. But, there was something in me that
wanted to take her as far as possible in her submission. Why, you
might ask, would a man who has 3,000 women already programmed to be
his slaves want an unprogrammed slave?  Exactly for that reason.  She
was unprogrammed.  I wanted to know how she would react, how she would
accept her submission when that submission must come from something
already within her and not something I gave her in a drink. 

Mary handed me the new collar I had bought Lisa. It was wider and
thicker than the other one, more sturdy. While a casual observer might
not notice the other was a bondage collar, this was definitely
noticeable. It had a lock in back and a big O-ring in front. 

"Turn your back to me and raise your hair, Lisa."  

I could see the humiliation in her face, feel it flowing off her in
waves like an outgoing tide. Her face was begging me to save her this
embarrassment. Embarrassment? How would Andy have reacted if she were
unprogrammed? What would she have done when I took her naked and bound
to the B&D party? How would she have reacted on the streets of San
Francisco when I dressed her as a hooker? Would she have rebelled? 

And, Mary.  Nothing seemed to bother Mary. Would she be embarrassed by
anything?

I realized I wanted to embarrass Lisa.  I wanted to see her reactions,
her face, her body language, to tell me what an unprogrammed woman was
like?  But, could I even get a fair reading from her?  I do not think
Lisa was typical of all women in that respect. All women would not
like to surrender to a man, a man to guide and control them.  They
would not want to show their love, their need, their sexuality, their
feminity, by submitting so openly.  Or, would they? Perhaps down deep
in their guts, somewhere in their psyche, would they?  Well, would
you?

I slipped the collar around her neck with the O-ring in front,
fastened the clasp and locked it with a padlock. I clicked it hard and
she jumped when she heard the hasp hitting home.

"Turn around, Lisa, and look me right in the eye."  

She turned to face me. What a struggle was within her to look me in
the eye.  Once, twice, three times she tried, only to look away. She
was red as a beet. Out of all the people scurrying about, all the
movement, something caught my eye.  

He was there. Diablo. The devil dog. Sitting, watching me as I carried
Lisa through this humiliation. Strangely, no one else saw him, yet
they knew he was there and avoided the area in which he sat. I turned
back to her, to my slave.

"Is this humiliating for you, Lisa?"

"Yes, sir," she sobbed.

"Are you enjoying it?"

What does enjoy mean? Do we enjoy a roller coaster as it makes our
heart skip beats?  Do we enjoy horror movies? Fast cars? Motorcycles?
Do we enjoy fear? Do we, sometimes, enjoy humiliation? Or, the fear of
humiliation?

"Please, master," she whimpered.

"Answer me."

Her head popped up to stare, her eyes holding mine.  I could see her
answer, but, she said it.

"Yes, sir."

She held my gaze until I spoke again.  By then, people had noticed us.
They pointed or looked or whispered.  Some kept walking, some stopped
to watch.  Some were almost comical.  Their eyes would pass over us,
then come back, realizing something was happening.  Still walking,
they would stare, then stop in mid-stride, mouths open, before
hurrying on again.  

"Lisa, I have a leash for you. When you see one of us coming toward
you with the leash, you will stop.  You will put your hands behind
you, grabbing one wrist with the other hand.  You will arch your back
slightly, turn your head to the left and raise it so the leash can be
attached."

"Please, no" she mouthed.  

Mary moved to her.  I saw her hand on Lisa's arm, and her other gently
rubbing Lisa's back for reassurance.  

Think about it. Could you be collared and leashed in a major airport
in full view of everyone and not be apprehensive? Standing there
before how many unknown eyes, docilely letting someone put a leather
collar around your neck, raising your hair for them to lock your
collar in place?  

Andy was standing on Lisa's other side now. Lisa found reassurance in
them, I guess, because she put her arms behind her back, arched,
turned and raised just as I had instructed. I attached the leash to
her collar and gave it to Mary, telling her to lead on.  I wanted to
watch the reaction, so I walked a few paces behind them.

As you know, beautiful women are observed any place they go. Here is
the picture for you. Mary, a beautiful and sexy blonde, was dressed in
expensive black winter-wool slacks which fit snugly and sexy in a
classy way.  She wore a bright, multicolor sweater on top which,
although loose, shouted to the watcher because of the way it fit her
breasts. Andy, sexy, sweet Andy, wore skin tight levis with boots and
a ski skin, both fitting like a second skin.  Andy alone would draw
traffic.   Lisa, brunette, dark, very pretty, wore a navy suit with a
tasteful red stripe running diagonally from top to bottom. The suit
was well tailored and fit snugly. The skirt came to mid thigh. She had
on hose and heels.   

Lisa also wore a leather collar, to which a leash was attached.  Mary
was leading her by the leash through the airport. We got a lot of
glances.  We got stares, leers and several people who just came up and
started talking. 

We also garnered one city cop checking to see if Lisa needed any help,
or at least, that is what he said.  The city cop was a big, Irish
looking guy about late twenties who could hardly walk his pecker was
so hard from my women. He escorted us the rest of the way and make
sure we got into our vehicle without a problem. I gave him our
telephone number and invited him to call. 

I knew Lisa was going to be all right because she flirted with the cop
as he walked us out.  Lisa wanted the cop to notice her, to think she
was attractive and sexy but she was with her man, that is, she was
with me. She did not want her man to know that she was flirting with
another man.  But, oh, she wanted to flirt.  All you girls know
exactly how she acted. You guys probably know, too.

Mary took the drivers chair with Lisa and Mary in the backseat. As
soon as the door was shut, they started to giggle and talk like
teenaged girl friends, which is what they were. They did not even hear
me tell Mary to drive to the tattoo parlor.  But, they got very quiet
when we pulled up out front.

We got the same guy who had pierced Lisa a few days ago. (My Lord, it
seemed like months so much had happened.)  He gave us a big grin
remembering our visit.

"Man, who is this one?" he said, leering at Mary. She blushed like a
school girl and gave me a wild look which asked if she could flirt. I
grinned back at her, not giving her any signals about "going" or
"stopping."  So, she stopped with a sigh.  She was a kitten and had no
choice, or, she had free will and made a decision.  I wondered which
it was.  

"What can I do for you today?" he asked, his eyes never leaving Mary. 

I turned to my three women. All three were watching me expectantly. 

"Lisa, remove all your clothes."

I expected reluctance.  I got a shy smile as she began taking off her
clothes.  The attendant suggested we use topical anesthetic but I told
him no.  Mary held one leg down and Andy the other as I stood above
her head and held her arms.

"All through," he announced later. 

Lisa had been pierced.  A small brad resided through her tongue which
I was looking forward to feeling on my cock.  Each nipple had a small
gold ring. And, we had added another ring through her pussy, actually
through her right labia at the vestibule.  He gave us the cleaning and
care instructions again as Lisa dressed. 

"Anyone else?"  the guy asked, eyeing Mary. 

He was dying to get his hands on her, but that is not the reason I did
it. I planned it all along.

 "Mary," I said.

She looked startled, then grinned, and began undressing. As always,
Mary undressing was as trip tease. Today, she seemed more invigorated
than usual, giving us a delicious performance as she slowly removed
her clothes. I was hard as a rock.  Andy and Lisa were tying hard not
to quiver.  And, the attendant moaned once. 

Slowly, while giving us a sensual smile, Mary lay back and gracefully
put her arms over her head. I leaned over and kissed her, then
whispered in her ear.

"Where do you want them?"

"Wherever it pleases you," she said, sex dripping from her voice.

"How about exercising your free will and deciding for yourself."

"I did exercise my free will, Davy.  I want to do what pleases you."

I kissed her again before turning to the attendant and giving him
instructions.  

"You don't need to hold me down," Mary said. 

We watched as he put gold rings through each nipple and her clit hood.
I was afraid he was going to drool on her, but his hands were steady
and he did a good job. 

We grabbed a quick dinner at a medium priced restaurant and were back
on the road. Mary was driving with Lisa riding shotgun beside her.
Andy was in the back seat with me.  She was in a blue mood again. 

"See," she whispered. "You did not get me pierced."

"I have other plans for you.  Special plans."  She pulled away when I
reached for her.

"Do you know how it hurts me when you do not trust me to do my best
for you?" I asked.

"Oh, Davy," she whispered as she kissed me.  We started to cuddle
again.  This time it was dark and Mary did not say a word when we
crawled into the back of the Suburban. I mean, it had been four hours
since we fucked and we were both horny. 


To be continued . . . 

Please!  Give me your comments.

Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com

