A Patriarch's Legacy

Premise & Trigger Warnings

This is the second of four chapters in a maledom, taboo, noncon dark novella.

Tags: Bull, father, slutwife, daughter, reluctance, taboo, harem, maledom, femswitch, malesub.

A young woman marries the son of a twice widowed, powerful business-and-political man, and bears him a child. In doing so, she becomes the final member of three young couples, that live under the patronage and protection, of this family patriarch. An extended family with dark secrets and shadowy ways, that the young woman adapts to as well as she can. Till one day the family patriarch invites the female half of the three young couples--the young woman who is his daughter-in-law, his step-and-adoptive daughter from his second marriage, and his natural daughter from his first marriage--for a one-on-three dinner at his mansion. And each of the three young women accept.

At dinner the patriarch shares with his "daughters" the news that he has decided to start bequeathing his vast estate now. He will not be leaving anything to any philanthropic causes, which leaves the family with a significant fortune. But at the same time he has decided to skip over his current living children, and leave his estate to his daughters' children, in a trust strictly managed by his agents instead. This trust for his "grandchildren" will get half his estate now, the final half when he dies. But the money will only be disbursed if all members of the three young couples act according to his desires. Desires which include the "palpable gratitude" of the young women. And the "yielding respect" of the young men, which the young women, as wives, are to enforce. Conditions which, to the young woman's shock, her two sisters-in-law seem ready to accept. But which she is far from certain she ever can.

This is DARK novella that includes strong MALEDOM, TABOO/INCEST, RELUCTANCE, SEXUALIZATION OF WOMEN, and CUCKOLDRY themes. Read at your own risk.

Chapter 2

The morning following her first strange and debauched dinner date with her father and sisters-in-law, with Douglas, Blake and Jordan Conlan, Dakota woke to the gentle caresses of her loving husband Brenden Conlan beside her.

"Good morning Honey" said Brenden, kind Brenden, as he gently caressed Dakota's blonde tresses out of her face, and gave her soft gentle kisses on her forehead and cheeks. "Rested well?" he asked.

Dakota liked the attention. She usually loved the attention. But this morning she woke up not having slept well, feeling disturbed, still dirty in fact, from the previous evening's events. But Dakota also felt she could not tell her husband that, any more than she could tell him his father's dark designs, his sisters' willingness to go along with them. So she simply smiled, and let Brenden read into the smile what he willed. And as he did, Dakota felt she had just lied to him.

"You are so lovely, I was missing you last night. You came in so late, stayed up so short, I feel we missed out on our little time together." He insisted, not letting go what Dakota hoped he would let go. As he gently let his hand now wander down from her face, rub past her bosom, her navel, in between her legs.

"Brenden, Honey, I am still tired..."

"Oh, ok. Can I kiss you at least? Maybe that would make you feel better?" Brenden asked, and Dakota almost began to feel sorry for him. How can a man like him be sired by a man like his father? How can a man like him, always so gentle, so pleading, not end up as road kill in the hard world of sexual relations? Dakota did not know. But she could use some "kissing," Brenden's euphemism for going down on her. She still had that bothersome itch, and even if she felt too dirty to make love to her husband, she did not feel too dirty to let him service her. So she answered him what would make both him, and her, happiest. "Ok" she said, to the almost childlike smile of her ecstatic husband.

Full of enthusiasm, Brenden wasted no time in lifting himself up to a kneeling position besides Dakota, reaching for the waist band of her fitted and flirty sleep shorts, and pulling said shorts down her legs. As Dakota helped him by lifting first her hips, then her knees, and finally her feet to let the garment out. That left her naked from the waist down, sporting only a matching fitted and flirty sleep T-shirt. Then Dakota's husband pulled backed a little, waited for her to inch to the middle of their bed, and finally raise and spread her knees in an unmistakable signal that she was ready for him, before he crawled before her to the lower part of their bed. And letting his face down between his beautiful blonde wife's slim legs, began to kiss, lick and suck with as much enthusiasm as he did with love.

Dakota had always thought Brenden was excellent at worshipping a woman. And had even been surprised he had asked to be allowed to worship her months before she came around to returning the favor and offering to suck him off, something he never asked for in return. Since then he had only got better with practice, and the mutual oral worship had settled in an unbalanced proportion of ten times to one. But who was she to complain? If it got Brenden off more to worship than to be worshipped, the reverse was certainly true for her, so it was a mutually beneficial arrangement as far as she was concerned. And what an arrangement it was! She thought as Brenden first kissed as much of her flower as he could span, then licked her folds, then sucked on her clit, in an increasingly quick and strong progression.

Dakota leaned back onto their bed pillows as she turned her face around to bite the end of one, and reached out with both hands to hold her husband's scalp, as he rhythmically dived his face between her legs. The pleasure build up was intense, like a steel smelting furnace building heat, as she watched, from in between increasingly closed eyelids, the forehead of her husband dip between her, leaving only the top of his head visible, only for her husband's forehead to appear again. He was so good, she often did not know what to do with herself, her hands, her legs. So she clamped her thighs tighter around his face, hoping that would speed the relief along. And she held onto his scalp harder too, and felt a little guilty, just a little in her distracted highly pleasured state, when she felt herself pull a few strands of her loving Brenden's hair out his scalp, even as that hardly slowed him down. And soon the pleasure reached a peak, as Dakota turned to bite the pillow again, silence her scream for decency sake. And kept biting for the next couple of minutes as another crest, and another, and another hit her, before she began to forcefully push her loving Brenden's face from between her legs. First with her hands, then as she partially succeeded, with her feet. An action that she could see he at first found disappointing, but in his typical endearing and kinky way he seemed to quickly find arousing.

When finally on her second or third foot-on-face push Brenden finally let go of Dakota's thighs, he leaned back on his knees to look at his wife with a feral look in his eyes. Dakota knew that look. It was the look of almost crippling need. But it was also the look of happiness, of somehow having got something he wanted, and Dakota still did not understand that. Regardless, the waves of her pleasure were still palpable to Dakota, as she turned to evaluate whether she could make love to her husband after all. She did not consider herself a bitch, a cocktease of a wife, and she wanted him to be happy too. But when she looked at her mind, and her gut, and her heart, in the context of her experience the previous night, she still could not find she was up to making love to him yet. So she simply moved to say to her precious Brenden "thank you", before she got up, still in a powerful post-orgasmic glow, to get ready for their day.

*****

"So what was the news from my father?" asked Brenden of Dakota when he finally caught up with her, having brushed of his wife's denial, in their master bathroom to clean up for the day.

"Honey, I am not ready to tell you everything yet" started Dakota. And "I believe your father will want to share much of it with you directly later on" she added. "But the short of it is that he is starting to bequest his estate and he will be giving our Billy, and any other children that I have, a third of his estate" she finished, even if she felt he did not know how to present the facts in the best possible light to her husband.

And yet "well, that is good news!" is how Dakota's loving Brenden responded, prompting her to question him back "how so? He is skipping you out of his inheritance, you realize that don't you?!"

"Yes I do, but I do not need my father's money. But our Billy, our children, would benefit from any leg up they can get."

Dakota did not know how, or feel it her place, to try to slap her husband into having some sense, so she paused before replying anything. She also noticed her Brenden had stated "their children", but "their children", is not what she had said, what her father-in-law had said. It had been "her children". Still uncertain about the meaning of that she let it go. But she did feel compelled to further explain to her husband that "Your father's attorney's will be reaching out to me to sign the paperwork. Your father wants me to be the sole legal custodian for our children's share of the estate. And he also is expecting, demanding, to see me, with your sisters, to share more about what he wants in return." And stopped before specifying in what domain. Dakota knew that was only part of the information her husband ought to know. But she did not have the mind, or the heart, to share more yet. And in any case her pure Brenden bailed her of his own free will when he responded to her "I do not doubt you will do what is best for our children, so that is fine by me" and kissed her on the lips all but concluding the matter. And Dakota's heart went out to him, but she held her peace.

And soon, husband and wife were done with their morning routine, their toddler son Billy woke up, and their weekend turned to other things.

****

Douglas Conlan's attorneys' did indeed reach out to Dakota first thing Monday morning, and by Tuesday lunch hour Dakota had signed the trust paperwork. A full day later than her sisters-in-law signed their paperwork, she later learned. And though the trust paperwork was all above board in every respect, Dakota could not help remember the unwritten strings that were attached and wonder whether in officially accepting the benefits of the trust on behalf of her children, present Billy and future children too, she had sold a piece of herself, of her soul, in the process. As if her father-in-law was the devil himself, and he demanded her blood, and the use of other precious bodily parts, in return. Which only meant her days and nights were even more tormented. Which meant she was no closer to feeling ready to have intimacy with her Brenden. Even more so when by the end of that very Tuesday, Douglas Conlan's assistant contacted her again, and informed her, that ahead of their already planned soiree on Friday night, the patriarch expected her and her sisters-in-law mid-week on Wednesday night. And once again, Dakota did not know what to do but accept.

At least this time Dakota did not have to spend any time preparing for the soiree, as her father-in-law's man had told her the driver would pick her up straight from work. As any modern person she was of course used to rides, whether ride shares, company vehicles, etc, being arranged for her. But with her father-in-law she could not help feel it had an element of the kidnapping, of the ravishment even, to it. And perhaps that was the point. Though regardless, at the end of the work day she was ready for it, in her black pumps and pencil skirt suit, her white button down shirt. An ensemble that was fit for any young public defender, as she was, even if she was a very, very attractive one.

The arrival at the Conlan estate was as last time, Blake and Jordan stepping out of their rides at the same time as Dakota did. And the escort of strong silent men in dark suits no less menacing either. Perhaps more, now that she knew she was expected to "please" her host at all costs. Also as usual Blake and Jordan were a vison of beauty, of sex appeal, even if they too sported variations of the young white-collar professional look, like Dakota did.

"Hi Sisters" and "hi to you too" Blake and Jordan said as they double kissed each other, and double kissed Dakota who responded "hi Blake, Jordan." Dakota not feeling sure it was honorable to share in a faithless incestuous concubinage, to be a perversion of the name "sister wives", with those two. Even if they were both so hot. But neither Blake nor Jordan seemed to notice her unease, and soon all three were interlacing arms, Jordan in the middle this time, and walking to their host and father's front door.

"Ladies, you rock that look, as you rock every look. Welcome, welcome!" greeted them their father's butler, flattering as always. "Dinner will be shortly" he added as he left them in the Spanish colonial mansion's grand dining room again. And not a minute afterwards, in stepped Douglas Conlan.

"Dakota, Jordan, Blake. You make my week, just by coming to see me. But more importantly you make my life, just by being part of it." He said, more heartfelt than creepy, Dakota thought this time. Though it was indeed very creepy, and insolently entitled, how he circled her waist and pulled her possessively to him this time again. More forcefully than last Friday, as if he did not in the least fear his right to do so would be challenged by anybody, including her. "My attorneys have informed me all paperwork is duly signed and notarized. So it is time we celebrate" he added as he held a chair out for each of his daughters, and sat himself when they were done.

Dinner went, fine, Dakota thought. Even if she still was adjacent to her pushy host, despite the fact that Blake and Jordan had been all but directed to switch places. And though Douglas Conlan spent a lot of the dinner stating what his preferences, really directions, for the raising of their children were, something that Dakota would have normally thought none of his business, in the context it was something she could tolerate from the patriarch want-to-be.

Once dinner was concluded however, and Douglas Conlan, tall, strong, bossy asshole, invited his three daughters to some more time in his mansion's sunroom, Dakota knew the time to pay the piper had come. And was validated in her instinct when upon entering the room, a grand hall with a long wall covered in mirror and the opposite long wall sporting floor-to-ceiling windows that opened to the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, three medium gifts boxes waited the young women. And Douglas Conlan handed them one by one to this three daughters with the following words.

"Blake, Jordan, it has been a few years since you've lived in this house with me. Since I got to watch you practice your arts. To stretch and warm up for them. But I always found watching you do so very peaceful, beautiful, pleasing to the eye... and more. I would like you to do a little stretching for me like that again. Do it together with your new sister, Dakota, too, and I am sure you three will put Zeus' own daughters The Three Graces to shame. Since I knew you would not be prepared, these gifts are an athletic top and bottom set for each of you. Put them on, chose some music, then take turns guiding each other through your favorite stretch routines for an hour."

After he finished, and handed Dakota her own giftbox, she reflected there was one thing that seemed to define Douglas Conlan's sexual predator style. He talked like his perverted desires were a request, like you had a choice. Even if it was amply understood it was not a request, and you did not have a choice. And she still found it hard not to visibly recoil, grimace in horror. But she managed to force a smile as she softly said "thank you" and began to open her giftbox following her sisters-in-law leads.

Dakota was just a little surprised to find it contained a pair of gently flared, low rise black yoga leggings, and a fitted spaghetti-strap pink yoga tank. She expected something even more abbreviated from her father-in-law, thought she did realize he had chosen pieces that would cling to her body like a second skin. Afford her no modesty that way. And she also noticed that once again, her leggings were all but identical to the ones her sisters-in-law got. And her tank was the same too, except Jordan's was a darker shade of fuchsia, Blake's a darker still shade of aubergine. Finally, she quickly realized there were no athletic undergarments to go along with the top and bottom. Of course, Blake, Jordan and herself would not need any sports bras, since their tanks all had shelf bras and they were all small and firm breasted anyway. But sports panties would still be a necessity for hygiene, and decency, sake she thought.

"They are lovely!" quickly chirped Jordan and Blake, as they wasted no time to strip, to Dakota's never ending shock, to their birthday suits. Dropping pumps, dress pants, turtlenecks, and lacey bras and panties on the ground as if they could not get out of them fast enough. Smiling at their father for a minute. Then getting into the yoga top and bottom as sultrily as they could manage. Dakota, as usual, feeling dragged along against her will. But proceeding to undress herself too, choosing to leave on, and potentially sacrifice, her own panties. Till Blake told her "Sister, it would be a pity for you to ruin such a lovely pair of panties. I am sure our father does not mind if we wear nothing underneath the leggings he has given us." And with a groan, Dakota reluctantly decided to lose her panties too.

All in all, Dakota did not think she was fully nude in front of her father-in-law for more than five seconds. But the voraciousness with which he assessed her for those five seconds made her feel as dirty as if he would have violated her every hole for a whole hour. The entitled asshole! Insolent prick! She screamed in her mind. And she felt she could not help it somewhat registering in her face too. Even as, per usual, he only maliciously smiled at her back. And it felt like a whole pregnant minute went by, as she managed to glare back at him with her chin held high, before Jordan broke the moment when, from her phone through the room speakers, she hit play on a soft and calming new-agey tune. Then the family patriarch addressed his daughters again.

"Blake lead for the first twenty minutes, then you Jordan, then you my dear lovely Dakota. Please do your thing, and never mind me. Whatever I do, pretend I am no more than a ghost and do not react, just carry along. Understood?"

And "of course Douglas, Dad!" replied Jordan and Blake, while Dakota, not feeling fully cooperative, merely stared.

"Ok girls! Let's work on those middle splits!" Said Blake, who turned towards the long mirrored wall, waiting for Jordan and Dakota to join her on each side, before she continued. "I know we are all familiar with it, but just a reminder. Let's go through a few lunges, frog splits, one legged middle splits, V splits, etc., till we finally end with full middle splits. Work up to it slowly" she said as she demonstrated along the way, her petite flexible ballerina body in her knew fitted yoga getup obviously needing no warm up or "slow work up". Of course, Dakota could tell that her father's directions to not mind him notwithstanding, Blake had gone through her little preview for his benefit. And immediately his predatory eyes were all but popping out of his sockets, as he began silently pacing circles around his daughter, pausing to loom over and look down at her when he saw fit.