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Subject: {EZ}MyInhert36 Dreaming
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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.

Please!  Give me your comments.

Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com

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


 


MY INHERITANCE

Chapter 36

Dreaming 

Mary was smiling at me brightly as she sat on the edge of the bed
watching me sip my coffee.   Slowly, her expression dimmed. First her
eyes changed, with the light receding like someone inching down the
dimmer on a ceiling chandelier. Then, some slight change in the
musculature around the lips as if trying to hold the smile in place
but losing the enthusiasm for it, making it fake.  Finally, the loss
of the smile altogether, the shifting of the shoulders, tilt of the
head, the little indications she felt rebuffed. She pulled her hand
away from me and looked away for a moment before her eyes returned to
me again with a question in them.

"What's wrong?"

I still could not decide if Mary could read my mind.  If she could,
whether through some natural skill or a talent imparted by Uncle
Bert's programming was not relevant now. The question was, if she
could do it, what would she see?  I do not mean the cerebrum, the
frontal part where my conscious thoughts reside.  I mean somewhere in
the back, buried amid the clutter, in a dark and dank corner beneath
smelly old secrets even I have long forgotten.  Back where the devil
dog lived. 

Her hand moved tentatively towards me again, the tips resting on my
thigh, light and still. 

"We need to go see the Hermit. Can you call to see if he is there?" I
asked.

"Yes. He has a phone if he decides to answer it.  It is a long trip,
over a thousand miles and we will need four wheel drive to get to
him."

She waited expectantly, wanting me to carry the thread of our
conversation. I was silent, watching her. 

"That is not the problem, is it?  You are wrestling with something
else."

"Breakfast you two," Andy called out.

"I want to eat in bed this morning."

"Yes, sir." 

It was said without rancor as she patted my leg, rose and left.  I
straightened the covers and stared out at the bright sunshine of the
day.  In a few minutes, Andy came in with a tray and sat it across my
lap.

"Does his majesty want company?" she asked, her voice light and
teasing. 

"No."

She pulled back, looking as if I had slapped her.   She was
embarrassed, wearing a little, frightened expression, accented by her
left hand closed into a fist above her right breast, her wrist bent
slightly angling the fist to her, as she does every time she fears she
had disappointed or angered me.

"I'm sorry, Davy," she murmured. "I meant no harm."

"I want to be alone." 

"Certainly.  Call if you need anything."

Shutting the door silently behind her, she left me with a plate of
eggs, ham, toast, jam, a slice of cantaloupe and two pints of orange
juice. Sullenly, I begin to eat.  As I ate, I thought.

I have not related to you the time I have spent working on the
formula, the hours studying Uncle Bert's notebooks, or the over a
hundred thousand dollars I had spent on supplies and chemicals.  Why
relate all of that wasted time and money? I was unsuccessful and it
was very frustrating.   Once, I thought I had it. But, I was wrong. 

That is not the issue, however.

You and I know the real issue, don't we?  

We know why I was a madman yesterday, why my good cheer and happy
nature has deteriorated to the point of disappearing, why I barked at
those darling women this morning.

The power.  The goddamned power. 

Uncle Bert may have been happy programming sex slaves left and right,
fucking every thing he wished. He did not know of Cathy and how she
used the power. He did not know she could influence men's thoughts by
focusing on them or by focusing on the thought she wished them to
have. Cathy's ability alone demonstrated what tremendous power the
formula would bring. 

You could walk into a room, find the sexiest member of the opposite
sex and focus. Their attention would turn to you. Their sexual need
would explode, their desire for you so great they would do anything.
Do you wish to have them strip naked and crawl, begging to eat you?
Think it!  Do you wish for them to shove aside others, fighting to be
your love slave? Think it!  

And, it is not just sex.  Walk into the millionaires club with a
bushel basket.  Leave with it full of checks.  They would sell their
spouses and children to give their money to you. Wealth accumulation
would only be limited by the number of people you could meet and the
time necessary to have property transferred to you. 

And, the power.  Do you wish to have a law passed, say something
personal like all women you meet must show you their pussies or all
men bow and kiss your feet?  Work through our delightful Congress.  Go
into the Congressional gallery and think.  Just think.  Soon, the bill
is passed and on the way to the President, who will sign it because he
is already under your control. Then, it is law.   Your law. And, the
government must enforce it. When you control them who make the laws,
you control the law and the government. 

Imagine fifty or 100 or 500 people working in coordinated effort
around the globe with the power to walk into a room and alter the
thoughts of the occupants, to take over any government by this
control. 

What if the power could used over television? My God, the
implications.

And, Mary's power, if she could read minds. To be able to walk into a
room and know what the others thought.  Scan the audience at a world
premiere where all the beautiful stars are in attendance.  Ah, there
is a tasty morsel secretly wishing to be butt fucked. One over there
wanting to be publically stripped and humiliated.  She would never
tell a soul her deepest and darkest secrets, not even her wonderful
and faithful lover.  But, you would know.  Make your approach.
Success!

Combine the two.  Then, you walk in a room, know who is friend and who
is foe.  Reward the friend by giving him control over the newly
reprogrammed foe. 

World domination. 

Uncle Bert had no idea of the power he was leaving me. None. But, he
knew unbridled power was evil.  He said that in the messages he sent
me. And, he was right. 

Was I strong enough to resist?  Would you be?

The fullness of my stomach, the heat building in the room from the sun
beaming through the open curtains and my own tired state must have
caused me to doze off.  I was dreaming again. 

I dreamed I was in the living room of the ranch house at Glenwood
Springs, sitting in my easy chair. Instead of using my foot rest, my
feet were propped up on the back of Cathy, who was naked and on all
fours with her pregnant belly hanging down below her. She was not
moving.  Mary was naked and kneeling at my left, Andy at my right.
Mary's belly was bloated in pregnancy, probably nine months. Andy was
pregnant, too, although less far along.  

They all had heavy collars around their necks.  The collars were at
least an inch thick and wide enough to hold their head in a fixed
position, like a posture collar, with the leather coming under the
chin for control. They had thick leather collars on their wrists and
ankles, too.  They neither spoke nor moved.

A woman brought me a drink on a golden tray. She was naked and I first
saw her bloated stomach heavy with child. She, too, wore leathers.
When I looked up at her face, it was last month's Playmate.  As I
looked around the living room, I saw the whole house was full of
pregnant women in leathers. All their faces had the same dead
expression, as if they were zombies or robots, programmed for a
master's needs.  From the state of their bellies, I surmised the
master felt a strong need to reproduce himself.  

When I looked back at the couch, he was sitting there, as a human
would,  his hind paws crossed, holding a golden chalice in one paw and
a cigar in the other.

"I was proud of you yesterday. You are finally beginning to realize
what this power is all about.  Who did you think was the best fuck?"

It was the second time he had spoken directly to me, the first when he
referred to Cathy as a bitch.  As I glanced around the room again, all
the women had disappeared except my four: Andy, Mary, Lisa and Cathy.
The four of them were on their backs in front of me, legs raised and
spread, facing me so I was looking at their open and available
pussies: Mary with her long, thick blonde hair and ring through her
clit hood; Andy shaven;  Lisa's coarse black hair trimmed neatly, with
rings through her hood and vestibule; and, Cathy's bush like mangrove
roots, a snarled mess of brown. All four pussies were bloated in need,
wet, their own juices and a rich, white cum oozing from them showing
they were all freshly fucked. 

Eight raised legs, like some giant, dead, four-headed, four-pussied
spider.   

"Cathy has the best smelling pussy.  More pheronomes.  Smells like."
He laughed, which sounded like a combination of a low growl and a
repressed cough.  "Smells like a bitch in heat.  We dogs get off on
smells more than you humans do. Too bad you lost the ability. It is
wonderful to smell as intently as I do. I know this bitch, my species,
not yours, when she raises her tail, my, my, I can smell her a hundred
miles away."

He threw back his head in laughter, then drained his drink.  He puffed
on the cigar, heavy gray smoke filling the room. 

"And, taste.  Didn't they all taste divine? I love eating a pussy,
don't you?  Feeling the texture, the wetness, the slimy love juice on
my tongue.  They loved it, too, all four of them."

The twins appeared filling our chalices before skipping away again.
They, too, were obviously pregnant and encased in leathers. The four
at my feet had not moved or made a sound.

"You know, you should buy them a dog, perhaps a Lab or a German
Shepard.  A big dog for them to fuck.  Perhaps, two or three dogs,
maybe a donkey.  They are horny cunts, these bitches of yours."

"They are happy with what they get."

" Oh, come now.  Why don't you ask them? Ask them if they would like
to fuck someone else, or better still, fuck a dog. They would like
anything that has a hard cock to shove up their cunts."

"I thought you fucked them?  You are a dog."

"Oh, I did and I enjoyed it.  So did they, but they told you that,
didn't they?  They thought I was you. Only you can see me, remember?
Yes, they enjoyed this dog fucking them.  That is why I know you need
to get them a real dog."

Mary rolled over on all fours then.  She was facing me. Her tongue was
long and thick, like a dog's tongue, hanging out as she panted.  She
backed up towards Diablo, wiggling her ass and whimpering, like a
bitch in heat, raising her ass, making her pussy available to the dog.
He stroked her ass, then stuck his huge doggy paw up her pussy.
Immediately, she orgasmed and fell to the floor, writhing in sexual
throes. A huge load of runny white liquid ran from her.

"Now, that is an ass and a pussy to die for.  Almost as good as her
daughter.  Better than your sister or the other one."

"You know their names, use them."

"Why? They are just empty cunts, women to fuck when you wish.  They
exist to serve you and there are millions like them. Like yesterday.
Did you care who they were yesterday when you were fucking them?"

"I cared, you furry cocksucker!"
   "That is one thing I don't do.  If you cared, why didn't you enjoy
them?"

"I enjoyed them," I replied.

"Liar!  You may have enjoyed fucking them until you were finished with
them. You enjoying releasing the pressure in your scrotum when you
wished."

"No, I enjoyed them as women, as human beings." 
 "Well, if you did, describe fucking Andy to me." 

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"If you enjoyed her as a woman, you will remember, just as she will
remember you. Oh, you might, in the blinding heat of orgasm, not
remember some subtle movements, but to that point in your dance, you
should.  Understand, you are correct in not remembering.  They are
just cunts for you to use without memory or regard.  Fuck as many as
you can.  Put a list together like your Uncle Bert did."

"Uncle Bert loved women."

"He loved taking women, controlling women.  He loved the power.  He
understood.  And, the women love it.  They love being taken as they
were, roughly, without emotional attachment, used and discarded.  They
are all just sluts at heart. Common sluts. Free whores. Unlike, what's
her name, Rebecca. She was an extraordinary woman.  What did she cost?
Four thousand for the night?  And, you can get them for free.  With
the formula, you can have even her for free."

Rebecca appeared at my side when she heard her name.

"I have a message, master.  The United Nations wants permission to end
the plague in Brazil."  

"All right. Tell them to go ahead." 

"And, the President, master.  He desperately needs to speak to you."

"Tell him I will call if I have time.  Leave me!"  She disappeared
again.

Diablo fell silent, watching me with those cold black eyes, his face
emotionless, ears at the alert, tail still, as if he were a hunting
dog frozen on the game. Was I the game? His huge tongue licked his
lips from one side to the others as dogs will do. I saw a ember in his
eyes and it flared for an instant like a campfire igniting. I saw the
red blaze and I knew what it meant. 

"Let me show you," he said. 

He stood, walking as a man on his hind legs, leading me through the
front door, into the clean, fresh air too soon fouled as he puffed
smoke into my face. All the trees had been stripped from the forest in
which we lived. The entire area was meadow, lush green meadow. Filling
the meadow from horizon to horizon were naked, pregnant women or all
kinds and shapes and colors and sizes.   All pregnant.  All wearing
leathers on their necks and wrists and ankles. They were ten or twelve
dogs in sight.  Border Collies.  

They were herding the women like sheep. The women seemed to be happy,
to enjoy the feel of the air and sun on their skins, to enjoy this
time of their child bearing. You could her them giggle and twitter,
see the excited movements of their hands, the flash of their eyes.
But, when they saw the dogs, the eyes died again and the hands
stilled.

"Common sluts! Available. They are all pregnant by you.  Your
offspring will dominate the earth.  Think of it! All sex, all money,
all power controlled by you and your offspring.  All pussies and ass
holes and mouths reserved for your use. All men falling in your feet
in homage."

Andy appeared beside me, naked, her sweet, innocent face shining up at
me.  She began stroking my arm lovingly. 

"Now, ask Andy if she wants to fuck a dog."

"Andy, do wish to fuck one of these dogs?"

"Oh, Davy, you know I just want to make you happy. I will do whatever
you want."

I remained silent.

"Well, I guess that is your wish," she said with obvious
disappointment, her hand coming to her breast as she did, her head
dropping in subservience.

Andy dropped to all fours. From nowhere, a dog appeared. He mounted
her doggie style. I saw his cock head come out of its sheath. It grew
until it was easily as big as a baby's head. He jammed it in her. She
screamed, her face contorted in the greatest of agonies but no sound
came from her mouth.  His doggy paws were on her back as he humped her
madly, driving that huge cock in and out of her wounded cunt. As he
flailed on her, his dew claws cut her like a knife, leaving gouges
which would scar and mar her forever. No more beautiful back. No more
beautiful pussy. I could see it stretched and hanging limp from his
vicious attack. 

She looked up at me, the pain so intense it was unbelievable.

"Please, Davy.  Davy!  Davy!!"

I was being shaken.

"Davy! Wake up, sweetheart.   We have packed the car and are ready to
go."
 "What? What?"

"We are ready to go The Hermits, sweetheart." 

To be continued . . . 

Please! Give me your comments.

Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com



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