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From: "E.Z. Riter" <ezriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: {EZ}MyInhert35 A Wild Night (MFFFF MC)
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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.

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 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--====================987654321_0==_
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