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Chapter 2 by The Archmaester The Archmaester

Who are you?

William Scribe - a man who wants it all

"Sir, you shouldn't be here!" A tall, muscular security guard stated as he saw you enter the Rotunda well past visiting hours but you merely brushed aside his concerns and pointed towards the wall, where you had scribbled your name in large capital letters.

"It's okay, officer, I own the building."

"Oh! My apologies, sir." The security guard apologised profusely, the colour draining from his face in fear of losing his job. "I wasn't aware that the National Archives is under private ownership."

"It's a recent development." You said with a smirk. You could never get used to the power you possess. With just two simple written words, you could claim anything you wanted, or anyone. If you phrase your words right, you discovered that not only can you own someone's physical body but even their minds and their will. Basically, turning them into your obedient slaves.

You had the power for a year and like all hormonal teenager in your position, you first used it to finally get laid. The first person you claimed was your pious born-again Christian girlfriend, who had wanted to stay "pure" until marriage. When you finally got bored of her, she was anything but unspoiled. Then, it was her best friend. And then your sexy teacher before you claimed ownership over the entire cheerleading squad. Soon enough, you were having sex with almost every attractive women in your life, including members of your own family.

The more women you claimed, the further into debauchery you fell. You didn't realise how depraved you've become until you claimed your mother and sister. At first, you had been in denial about your true intentions. Claiming that you only did so to stop your slutty sister from sleeping around and to get your nagging mother off your back. However, one night you were feeling horny and none of the hundreds of girls at your disposal seemed particularly interesting so you asked your mother for a simple titjob. The next morning you asked her for a blowjob and soon afterwards, you were fucking both your sister and mother in an unholy threesome every single day.

So it didn't come as a surprise when they both ended up pregnant, as well as several other women in your ever increasing harem. Despite being difficult to keep track over all of them, you did the responsible thing and took care of them and your progeny, by claiming ownership of the bank accounts and properties of several multi-billionaires, so that they could live a comfortable life and focus on raising your children inbetween sating your ravenous libido.

Yet, even with all of your wealth and power, you still wanted more. Wanted to push the limit of your power, if there was any. So you hopped onto your private jet and flew to Washington DC, the heart of American power.

And now before you, in a bulletproof, bombproof, moisture-controlled casing was the soul of the nation. The Constitution of the United States of America. It hadn't been easy or cheap to procure a pen that would not destroy the integrity of the centuries old piece of parchment but you managed to obtain one and with great care, you began to write, forever changing the course of the United States.

We, the People of the United States belong to William Scribe

"HEY! You're not supposed to write on..." the same security guard from before began to admonish you for defiling the most sacred piece of paper in America but then you could see his eyes glaze over as he and 300 million souls fell victim to you. "Master, how may I serve?"

What now? Evict Trump from the White House? Or do 'We The People' rebel?

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