MY INHERITANCE
Chapter 36 (MC, Dream Fantasy)
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 diminishing 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. Set yourself up as a charity, some seemingly worthy
cause. 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.
"Yes, you 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 . . .
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Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com
