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.

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com

This is the repost of a fifty-two chapter mind control, multi person romance.
 
MY INHERITANCE

Chapter 35

A Wild Night

Mary lay under me, her hands still stroking and caressing me gently. She was waiting on me to
answer her question. Would I be a father, not just a seed contributor, to a child if she bore it for
me? She had that look again. Was she in my mind, reading it? If she could read my mind, why did
she ask questions like that? 

"Can you read my mind?"

"No," she said but the way she said it. She smiled as if she had a secret.  "Of course, I could be
lying because I have free will to lie, or I could be programmed by Bert to lie to you about this. Or,
I might have told the truth.  Hard to tell, isn't it?"

"Did Uncle Bert program you to read minds? Or, did you have it naturally?"

"I have not said I can read minds, Davy. Why don't you lie here with me?"

"I can reprogram you when I have the chemical."

"I know you can reprogram me.  I cannot steal the formula from you and I cannot reprogram you.
I have been programmed to never hurt you. So, you have me there."

"Or, you could be lying now."

"No. Or, was that 'no' a lie."  She laughed.  "A riddle with no solution, a puzzle with no end. 
What is it, Davy?  How do you decide?"

An evil thought crossed my mind and it frightened me.  Why did I think that? Anger? Frustration?
Or, that damn devil dog again?  Whichever, I was chilled by it and shivered, shaking it off. 

"No.  You have been programmed not to do that.  You might hurt me, and I suspect you will. 
Some of that hurt I will welcome because of the pleasure which will follow.  But, you cannot kill
me."

"You read my mind."

"Or, I read you face and guessed.  I am a good guesser."

"I would never . . . "

"I know.  I never worry about that.  And, I would never hurt you, whether I was programmed or
not."

She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down to kiss me long and sweet and hot.
When I sat back again, she had a loving, tender smile.

"So, the question is, am I part of your life? Can I be secure in the knowledge you are there for me
and for our child?"

Security?  What is it? Money in the bank? Health? Belief in a benevolent creator?  A chemical
which enslaves?  All the surveys done show the main thing women want in a marriage or in a
nonmarriage relationship is security.  That does not mean money. Like Mary said, it means is their
partner there for them? Do they have someone to rely on? Can they wake up each and every
morning for the rest of their lives and know their partner will be there that day, all day, for them? 

Why wasn't I saying it? Men say it all the time, too often insincerely in the hopes of sex.  Why
didn't I say "I will be there for you?"  Six little words, or three words if you condense it into "I
love you." They mean the same thing most of the time. Emotional security. Why?

I knew I was there for her.  Something deep in me knew she would be with me the rest of my life.
And, if she chose to leave, I would fight her leaving with all my power.  Why did I not want to say
it then?  Was it wanting to exercise power over her? Wanting her to surrender, to kneel passively
by me, dependent on my generosity and love for her?  Was it a fear of commitment?  Perhaps
something in the very essence of my maleness, a fear by me of being trapped, of surrendering
freedom and control? 

And, there was something else working. It was the power. I looked up and he was there again. 
Diablo. He was lying down with his heads on his forepaws watching me, watching us.  He raised
his head and smiled again, that dirty dog smile. He knew what was going on in my head. 

But, why the power?  What did I really want?  What did I need? 

The emotions in me were so conflicting, I was reeling. 

I wanted to fuck her.  I wanted to fuck all of them, every damn one, all three thousand.  Line them
up! On their backs! Now, start!  Fuck every one of them whether she wanted it or not! Fuck them
hard and fast! Make them pregnant! 

What?  Three thousand children?  Thirty-six thousand dirty diapers a day.  The volume of baby
poop would be overwhelming. 

Sanity? Conscience? Human feelings?  Whatever, I felt the rush of adrenaline recede, like a tide,
for the moment rushing out, and reason reappear like the sand of the beach as the water flows
away. I took a deep breath and another.  Migod.

Diablo was watching me still. I saw a flicker in his eyes, a tiny, red flicker like the ember of a fire
ready to burst into flame. Mary was watching me intently as she did in times like these. 

"Need a drink?" she asked, scrambling to her feet.  I watched her delicious ass sway as she walked
away. She knew I was watching so every twitch of each wonderful muscle was choreographed to
arouse that enate need in me to fuck her. Why now was she being so sexy with me?

She brought me my drink and went into the bedroom.  She was back in an instant with a small
clear plastic box in her hand, which she gave to me.

"My birth control pills.  I promise not to replace them."

Her decision was made.  She would bear me a child.  And, that decision pushed the tide back
further.  She lay down by me again, this beautiful woman I did not begin to understand, putting
her legs around me so I was between them. What could be more of an invitation?  So, what was
that funny smile on her face?  

She opened my fist with hers and plucked the birth control pill box from my hand, wrapping in
tight in one fist. She put both her hands over her head, away from me.

"On second thought, if you really want them, you will have to take them away from me."

We rolled on the floor in our loving wrestling, straining and grunting against one another as our
bodies slide on a sea of our sweat, feeling the other's body, gaining stimulation and arousal. Mary
was strong, her body kept in excellent condition, but she was no match for me. We both knew that
when she started this game. 

I had no desire to defeat her quickly or to end by giving her an order which she must obey.  I was
enjoying the wrestling as she was, enjoying the feel of her against me, her muscles and her skin,
hearing her breathing quicken from her ardor, smelling her smell, seeing the life in her teasing
face. 

Suddenly, I was on fire!  

My brain was seething with the need to break her, to bring her under my control. 

But, she was under my control, a control from programming, a control from her own willing
surrender demonstrated just minutes before by the gift of her pill box, the gift of her womb to
grow my child. 

I seized her by hair in one hand and pussy in the other to force her towards the dungeon in the
basement, shoving her in ingloriously.  

Cathy, awakened by our noisy arrival and chained to the wall, sat up.  Her eyes were frightened as
she scurried to plaster herself against the wall, pulling her chain tight, to withdraw from me as far
as possible.

Mary's eyes were wild, glistening, beaming, showing her sexual readiness. She showed no fear,
standing passively, allowing me to do as I wished to her. I could feel the twitch of her muscles, the
slight catch in her breath as I began to restraint her. Could she not read my mind? Not feel my
anger? No, not anger. Need! A sexual need. Or, was it? 

Go slowly! Control yourself! Patience! 

Cross her wrists in front of her.  Bind them together with a thick, soft white rope.  Wrap each
wrist  five times individually before the joining takes place. Her expression was calm as she
watched me bind her. 

Slowly. Slowly. Have I said that? Let the tension build in her.  This is for her as well as me. 

Another rope now. Circle the most narrow part of her torso with another rope four times.  Slowly.
Tie a thick knot immediately to the right of her spine. 

Lubricate the butt plug. Insert it.  That's it. The vibrator, lathered in jelly.  Up her pussy. Twist
slightly.  All the way in.

She was starting to squirm now, not in pain, in need.  She wanted this.  She wanted to be bound,
to be fucked. Her eyes got that "fuck me now" look as I twisted and turned the vibrator to seat it in
her pussy. She was enjoying this. She licked her lips as I continued.

Tie her legs together at the knee with another rope. 

She looked at me, wondering what else I had planned, her anticipation in her bondage and her
sexual desire evident.

Bound wrists up over her head and down behind her neck, elbows pointing up at the ceiling.  Pull
the rope down the middle of her back, run it through the rope around her waist and let in fall.
Arch her back. Pull down on the rope so her elbows are pulled back further.  Tighten the arch. 
Stretch her. Now, push the rope between her legs. Pull it tight. 

The rope slide between the cheeks of her ass, making her squeal a bit as it scrubbed her tender
flesh. 

Yank hard upwards to seat the rope. Stick it under the rope in her waist.  Pull it to rub her ringed
pussy and hold the vibrator deep within her.  Push the rope back between her thighs and behind
her, through her legs below her knees.  Pull. Slowly.  Let her kneel without falling. Bring her knees
to her waist. Tie the rope securely. Turn on the vibrator. Breathe.  Wait. 

Why might you ask? Why bind this kitten in such an awkward position?  With her thighs up and
her back arched, orgasm would be very difficult if not impossible.  Yet, the vibrator buried deep in
her and the pressure of the ropes and the tension they caused would build her sexual need even
further. Add an occasional flick on her clit or twist of a nipple to keep her on the edge. 

"You bastard," she whispered as she realized the effect of what I had done was going to be, but it
was said with desire and, yes, with love. 

Did I bind her like that with love?  With lust?  With . . . ?

I looked at Cathy and pointed my finger at her. 

"On your back, bitch!"

With a wild, sexy grin, she scooted down to lay on her back, legs tightly together.  She raised her
head to look at me.

Get more rope.  Tie up Cathy. Slowly now.  Left arm up, out, spread, tied to the ladder.  Now,
right arm. Don't get the rope too tight.  Legs?  Right leg, rope on ankle, secure. Now, tie her leg to
the ladder. Left leg, same thing. Now. No. Adjust the tension, get the spread right.

Her face was shining. Need? Sexual need?

"Now, you will ready when I want you," I said, looking down at her as she lay tied, open and
available.

"Yes, Davy," she whispered.  There was no fear in that voice.    

Mary groaned.  Her eyes rolled back in her head for an instant. She was moving as much as the
bondage would allow, moving to relieve the stress on her aching muscles and tendons, but even
more, moving to generate the orgasm she desperately needed. She was enjoying this.  

Was I?

"Don't you want to ask me to let you cum?" I asked as I twisted the ring in her nipple. 

Her face contorted until I released the ring. She gasped,  "Why? Would you do it?"

"No."  

She smiled at me and brought her head forward to be kissed.  I pulled her to me, hand behind her
neck, as I raped her mouth with mine. 

Patience, Davy. Patience, but with care for her, with desire for her to have pleasure.  

He was in the dungeon now, roaming, the ember in his eye still glowing.  He stopped by Mary. 
Slowly, his nose twitched.  The twitching intensified and he followed the smell, his huge black
nose sniffing down Mary.  Lower.  His nose was at her bush, her long blonde bush. He sniffed,
taking in those odors from her dripping pussy. 

"Please, Davy," Mary whispered.  It was a begging, pleading tone as she asked me to let her cum. 
I turned the vibrator to high.

Her juices coated her thighs, her sweat, her pussy juices, flowing freely.  Her skin was turning a
reddish color. I saw her back spasm, telling me she was near the end of her endurance. 

Slowly.  Slowly.  Do not undo her too soon. Let it build right to the edge, to the edge where
pleasure and pain mix. Maximize her pleasure.  Her pain.  And, for me? 

What is in it for me? 

"Now, Davy, now. Please, let me cum. Let me, Davy. I cannot stand any more!"

Quickly release her. She is squirming on the floor, every muscle, every fiber screaming from the
binding, from the need. Grab her legs. Slam into her.

Oh, yes! YES! Oh God, that feels good!  So wet! So hot! So tight!  

Her pussy locked around my cock, her muscles in spasm.  No release.  She planted both feet
firmly on the ground and arched, lifting me off the floor and trapped inside her.

"DAVY."  

So good! Pound away. Yes. My balls hurt.  They throb. Damn, they ache! Programmed not to
shoot. 

Feel her. Feel Mary under me, her heat, orgasm, orgasm, orgasm.  What a laugh, a wonderful,
sexual, satisfied laugh she has. Yes, Mary rest.

Where is Diablo? There that dog is! Between Cathy's legs.  Fucking her.  His doggy prick fucking
my woman.  Bullshit!

Throw him off! Now, it's me. She is spread so wide, so invitingly. Cock lubed with Mary's juices. 
Sliding in. Yes! 

"Oh, Davy, Davy. It had been too long. Fuck me, please," she murmurs.

So delightful. She is talking. In my ear. Sweet nothings.

"Yes. Oh, yes. So good, Davy. God, oh, I, oh, yes, love it."

Feel her cum, feel her tighten.  Balls, hurt worse.

Lisa. 

I was a madman as I charged to Lisa's room. She was sound asleep, on her side curled in a little
ball, pretty neck chained to the bed. Juices from Mary and Cathy coated my cock. 

Roll her over.  On her back.  Slap! Slap! rings as I swat her thighs with the flat of my hand. 
Squealing, she pushes me away but I am between her legs. 

"Davy, oh god, Davy," said in lust as she awakens. At the gate. Push. Her knees to her breasts,
pinned under my arms, pin her wrists by her head. Fuck her.  Fuck her.

"Fuck me, Davy. Oh, God, fuck me, fuck me. Harder. Harder."

Gasping now, tying to straighten her legs, trying.  Fuck her. Legs free. Feet planted. Arch. Arch.
Balls, on my balls. 

"What?" Andy said, rasing her arms defensively.  

Slam into her! Fuck her. Harder. Pressure so great. Too much. 

"Fuck me, you stud! Fuck the shit out of me! Oh, goddamn, yes. Please! Yes! More! More!
Harder, damn you! Harder! More! Oh, God, oh God! YESSS!"

Stop! Buried all the way! Let it go, let it go, let it go.

I heard a giggle and the patter of naked feet on the floor.  I turned over and the sun, shining
brightly through the now open curtains, blazed in my face. I turned back and opened my eyes.
There, kneeling on the floor were three naked women, one with a locked collar around her neck
and all with bright, happy eyes.

"Good morning, Davy. Here is your coffee," Andy said handing me a mug.  

"Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes," Lisa said. 

"Is there anything else we can do for you, Davy?" Mary asked.

"Mumwah."

"May I have permission to go finish preparing breakfast?"

I nodded.

"If you will excuse me, I need to help," Andy chimed. She kissed me hungrily. "You were hot last
night.  What got into you?" She laughed as she ran out the door.

Mary slipped up on the bed beside me. 

"Well, you have four very happy women this morning.  Four very well fucked, happy, women. 
Cathy sends her best. She asked me to tell you how much she enjoyed it. She would tell you
herself but she is, um, still tied up."

"Are you all right?"

"Of course.  Oh, Davy, I loved it. We all did.  There was more passion last night then I have felt in
a long time.  What did get into you?" 


To be continued . . . 

Please!  Give me your comments.

Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com