The Hundred Heirs
Copyright© 2026 by Victoria Kane
Chapter 8: The Unmasking of Three
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 8: The Unmasking of Three - One woman. One week. One hundred masked men. The Institute demands heirs from the world’s most powerful bloodlines. Victoria Kane is the Vessel they chose. She has other plans. Raw group ritual. Power reversal. Legacy mindfuck. No escape. No mercy.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Consensual Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction FemaleDom Humiliation Group Sex Orgy Interracial Black Male White Male White Female Oriental Male Hispanic Male Indian Male Cream Pie Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Voyeurism
Nine months later.
The Grand Hall of the Institute.
The vast space had been plunged into near darkness. Only three stark spotlights cut through the gloom, fixed on the empty dais. Behind them the massive screen glowed with cold blue light. One hundred men stood in rigid rows. Masks still in place. The air felt thick with anticipation and dread; faint metallic tang lingered from the cooling vents.
A low, rhythmic drumbeat began. Slow. Primal. It echoed through hidden speakers like a heartbeat that refused to quicken.
The lights dimmed further.
The screen flickered to life.
White text appeared letter by letter, as if typed in real time:
FRATERNAL TRIPLETS CONFIRMED.
The drumbeat paused.
Fetus A: Genetic match to Dr. Julian Harrow (Number 57).
Fetus B: Genetic match to Father Matteo Rossi (Number 82).
Fetus C: Genetic match to Senator Marcus Hale (Number 100).
A collective intake of breath rippled through the rows. It turned to murmurs. Then to uneasy shifting. Silence fell like a guillotine.
The drumbeat resumed. Faster now.
Three additional spotlights snapped on. They illuminated three empty pedestals on the dais.
Victoria emerged from the shadows at the back. She walked regally, in a blood-red gown that flowed like liquid around her. In her arms: the eldest triplet, gray-eyed and alert. Behind her two attendants carried the cradles holding the other two daughters. One with green eyes. One with a strong, determined jaw already visible even in infancy.
She stopped at the centre pedestal. Placed the gray-eyed girl down with deliberate care. The child gazed upward without fear.
“Unmask Number 57.”
A technician stepped forward. The spotlight on the first pedestal intensified.
Dr. Julian Harrow was seized by masked guards. Dragged forward. His mask ripped away. Silver hair gleamed under the harsh light. His face turned ashen as he stared at the child with his own gray eyes staring back.
Victoria’s voice cut through the hall. Amplified. Icy.
“The man who delivered me into this world now fathers my firstborn.”
Julian dropped to his knees. Hands shook as he reached for the baby. Fingers hovered. Then touched. The child’s tiny hand closed around his index finger. He made a small, broken sound.
Next pedestal.
“Unmask Number 82.”
Father Matteo Rossi was pulled forward. Mask torn off. The clerical collar gleamed under the light. His face contorted in horror and awe.
Victoria’s words rang out.
“The shepherd of souls who preaches chastity now cradles the fruit of his mortal sin.”
Matteo collapsed to his knees. Whispered frantic Latin. Tears fell onto the blanket. The green-eyed girl stirred; reached upward. He took her. Held her against his chest. The collar pressed against her cheek. He wept without sound.
Final pedestal.
“Unmask Number 100.”
Senator Marcus Hale was hauled into the light. Mask yanked away. Flag-pin glinted mockingly. His jaw clenched as he stared at the third child; the one with his unmistakable strong jawline.
Victoria’s voice was steel.
“The guardian of family values, the banisher of choice, now holds the living proof of his hypocrisy.”
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