2 Tag Bonewell The Murder of Wendy Wilde
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My InheritanceChapter 35: A Wild Night free porn video
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.
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