My Inheritance
Copyright© 1999 by E. Z. Riter
Chapter 33: A Day in Denver
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 33: A Day in Denver - Dave inherits 3,000 sex slaves, $20 million and a treasure hunt to a mind control formula
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Mind Control
Mom, Dad, Abby and Betty had left to drive to the airport. I had to put all four of them in trances to make them quit asking why Cathy was not going home with them. After the trance, they understood Cathy was going to live with us until further notice and asked no more questions.
They did not know she was going to live naked in my dungeon, my prisoner until I had another way to keep her securely. As I thought about Cathy there, naked, the steel collar around her lovely neck, the heavy chain locked to the thick O-ring embedded in the concrete, my cock twitched and I shivered.
I kissed Mom and Dad the way a son kisses a parent. When I kissed Abby and Betty, I let my hand roam over their bottoms, checking to make sure the butt plugs were still in place. Both of them giggled and told me they understood the plugs were there until they could accommodate a cock up their behind with reasonable easiness. Both of sisters gave me sweet kisses on the lips, although Betty did flick a little tongue and gave me a slutty look when she broke the kiss.
I checked on Cathy, gave her a bathroom break, locked the house, loaded Mary and Andy in the Suburban and headed toward Denver. We had a noon appointment with Maria. As you remember, Uncle Bert said she had one of the final two pieces necessary to replicate the formula.
Mary was driving and I was in the back seat to catch a little nap when I felt a tap on my leg. It was Mary tapping me. When she caught my eye, she nodded at Andy, who was riding shotgun. Andy was crying silently.
“Hey, hey. Come here, kitten,” I said.
Andy shook her head and refused to look at me. I tried cajoling her but to no avail. Finally, I ordered her into the back seat with me. She could not refuse an order. She was a kitten. But, I did not order her to talk to me. She sat in the corner, scrunched up against the door as I tried to figure out what was wrong. I asked Mary but she had no idea.
Finally, I tried the old-fashioned way. I yanked her on my lap and made her sit there. She squirmed a minute, then settled down. The squirming was delightful and raised other interests, but there is a time and place for everything. She put her head on my chest and sniffled.
“Okay, Andy, what is wrong?”
“I understand, Davy. And, I love you. I will always love you, no matter what.”
That was cryptic and very female. I thought about her comment just an hour ago, when she was so bubbly and happy. You remember that comment. They are mysterious creatures.
“No matter what? What does that mean?”
If I did not know better, I would have guessed Andy had hurt feelings over another woman, which is jealousy, in essence. But, she was programmed not to be jealous. I did remember when she was anxious over Lisa. Andy had said then she just did not want to be abandoned, that she wanted to be a big part of my life.
Uncle Bert had programmed Mary and Andy in interesting ways. If he was going to program her not to be jealous, why leave a hole so she was disturbed over other women in my life. I mean, the gave me all those kittens. I know he must have had the same problem with Mary. Andy sniffled and spoke.
“Cathy.”
“Cathy?”
“Yes. Cathy.”
“What about Cathy?”
“You don’t love me, do you?”
“Of course, I love you. I love very much.”
“Aha! I knew it. You love Cathy more than you love me.”
She was sitting up now, those blue eyes small and pointed, burning a hole right through me. I bet every male reader is saying yes, that sounds like my woman. And all of you ladies are saying, who, me? Now, if I really wanted to get rich, I would program woman not to do this to us men. Guys would pay a lot for that, I know. But, then, look at how much fun we would miss in working out the problems.
“Oh, Andy, I love you much, much more than I love Cathy or anybody else in the world.”
“No, you don’t. You keep her protected, hid away where guys can’t get to her or even see her, but you let me walk around, just free as a bird. See!”
She began to cry again, not hard, a few tears and sniffles. I said nothing.
“Oh, Davy, I don’t mind you fucking other women. You know that. I enjoy seeing you with them, seeing you happy. I enjoy being with them, for you, because that makes you happy. You know I will do anything to make you happy, sweetheart. But, oh, I just want to, well, I want, dammit, I want to be number one!”
“You are, sweetheart. You are.”
I spent the rest of my way to Denver talking to my favorite kitten. You know how things go. We talked, with her tense and cold on my lap as I cajoled and wheedled. Then, she started to relax, to understand I did really love her. She started to feel guilty about accusing me which made her want to cuddle, wrapping her arms around me, her breath hot and sweet on my neck, her breasts crushed against me. She had been shifting in my lap for some time. We kept cuddling, touching, whispering, making up. Making up makes me horny (okay, I am always horny). You know how things go.
“Hey, you two! We are in city traffic here,” Mary called out as Andy and I crawled into the back of the big Suburban where we could lie down. Andy giggled.
“It’s okay. So what of someone sees us,” she whispered, her eyes aglow.
Is that the same woman who was crying half an hour ago? Then, reason kicked in. Oh, well. There was always tonight.
As I lay in the back of the Suburban with Andy nestled in my arms, I watched the looks from the drivers of trucks and pickups staring in the windows at us. We were totally dressed but still they stared. Andy did not notice them, or, if she did, she did not care. She was happy being in my arms. While she was there, I thought. I thought long and hard until we reached Maria’s house.
Since her name was Maria and I was to ask for a recipe for tamales, I presumed Maria was Hispanic. Wrong. Maria was Polish and lived in a lovely brick house in a nice suburban neighborhood with kids playing in the street and bikes everywhere. She was about sixty-five, a lovely widow who had raised four children and buried a husband after a life long marriage. We had a delightful visit before I put her in her trance.
When I asked for the recipe for tamales, she went into the kitchen. In a moment, she returned with her recipe folder, which was yellowed with age. She sat down by the lamp and put on her bifocals. Mumbling to herself, she sorted through the T section, finally withdrawing an envelope, which she handed to me.
On the outside was neatly printed, “Open in private.” We said our goodbyes to Maria and jumped back in the Suburban. Andy was at the wheel. Mary was on the cell phone checking the messages.
“Where to, sweetheart?”
I gave her the name of the store and she turned beet red. Then, she giggled and headed us out. I had told her to go to the exotic boutique where I bought the neat bondage stuff.
“We have another stop to make,” Mary announced. “Lisa called. Her plane for Denver left LA ten minutes ago.”
Lisa! Damn!
I had not thought about her in the last few days but I had told her she was welcome to return, under certain conditions. Remember, Lisa was my old girlfriend. Andy uncovered her deep submissive bent which we started developing before she went back to LA for Christmas. Now, she was coming back. I was glad to have her but the timing could not be worse with Cathy in the dungeon and me on the edge of getting the formula. But, I could not leave Lisa sitting at the airport. I would have to work it out somehow.
I pushed Lisa out of mind for the moment and opened the envelope. It contained a poem. Of course, Uncle Bert was no poet but his intention was not to create art. It was to give me a message, I hoped a message that would put just one step from the end of my treasure hunt.
Here is what he wrote: “Kittens sweet, bound as one by woven fur, Paws entwined to the cows’ own rhyme, First heard long ago in summertime, One sings the song, while the other purrs.”
Uncle Bert was cryptic sometimes, although I knew exactly what he meant, and you probably do, too. Isn’t it interesting how he always manages to work sex into everything? He was a horny old tom cat.
At the exotic boutique, I bought what I thought I would need for my kittens and for the two women in my life who were not kittens, Cathy and Lisa. Then, I got an idea. I talked to the proprietor, borrowed a tape measure and took Andy into a dressing room. I had her strip and started measuring her. I was measuring her entire body, particularly all the dimensions of her crotch. All of them, such as the length and width of her pussy. Of course, when measuring someone, you have to touch them and I always like touching Andy.
“Stand up straight and quit quivering.”
“I can’t help it. What are doing down there?”
“Measuring your pussy. Be still.”
“I can’t be still. You try to be still when someone is measuring your pussy.”
“I don’t have a pussy.”
“You know what I mean. Oh, Davy, haven’t you measured enough?”
She was starting to drip and whimper. Our session in the car had us both a little on edge, so to speak. When I locked the dressing room door and dropped my pants, Andy giggled, her eyes big, her face wild. She turned around and bent over, bracing herself on the small bench and wiggling her ass, as if I needed direction or encouragement. Doggie style, I slid into her, hands on her hips as she pushed herself back into me.
“Quiet, little lady.”
“Certainly, David. Very quiet, I think would be best.”
We tried to be quiet but quiet is a relative term. There in the dressing room area we sounded really loud to me. I heard another dressing room door slam, then another. Soon, we heard other people pounding away, balls slapping against pussies, moaning, whimpering. The smell of other pussies wafted through the air. Sweet Andy came quietly as she always did when programmed this way. I slipped out of her without ejaculating, turned her around and let her clean me up in her own, most delightful, way as she knelt on the floor.
When we left the dressing room, Mary was grinning like a hooker. The owner of the boutique was nonplused. He just grinned and said, “good for business.” I gave him all my orders, took what was ready and left.
“What did you special order, Davy?” Andy asked.
“Something for you. Now, it is a surprise. Don’t ask again.” She wanted to ask but could not since I had given an order. With a sigh, she tucked her arm through mine and leaned against as we walked out.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.