Now that I understood the ring, my mission had taken a new bend. I suddenly didn't want to settle for having sex; I wanted to get girls pregnant as often as I could. A small part of me that was used to losing battles by now protested this course of action, but it was ignored. I pulled up my laptop and started looking through the archive of my cellphone pictures, then I got out my ring and started giving each girl one thrust apiece, going through what was easily a hundred girls. Out of my favorite image set, there were two with blue-green colors, five were solid green, and two were pulsing green. I took a few minutes to mate with both of the pulsing ones, hoping to get them both pregnant.
As I lay recovering from my exertions, I realized I was burning daylight and wasting my perfect opportunity to collect more pictures. I brought up my DSLR and started shooting at least one picture of every woman I saw walking by on the beach. I sat there in my chair from morning through evening, shooting every hot, lithe body I saw. It didn't matter whether they were in swimsuits or t-shirts; I shot almost every girl who walked by. The only pause I took was to download pictures to my laptop and change batteries on my camera when necessary. By the time night fell, I'd taken about three thousand photos of smoking hot women. I spent the night thrusting into each woman once, trying to sort them by whether they were pregnant, fertile, or ovulating. The greens and flashing ones I put into a directory named after today's date, while the virgins and pregnant women were discarded. The non-flashing ones I left in a "catch-all" directory to check again later, hoping to find their ovulation date.
I got to bed at midnight, then woke up early in the morning and resumed my photography. Overall, between the Saturday and Sunday I got around seven thousand pictures. I think I honestly had one of every female that walked by, other than the old and the under-aged. And I had at least three hundred ovulating women; I was going to have my work cut out for me trying to work through them all.
When my friend's family came back from their trip, I gladly surrendered the keys to the house and went back to my dorm at college. The photos I'd taken comprised my life's new mission; I was going to impregnate every single woman I saw. I knew it was wrong, but by now I was pretty much completely powerless to resist. I was working hard on it; after a month of trial and error, I'd sorted out nearly all the pictures by their ovulation dates. And from that point, I just spent my time cumming inside of women. It was all I did before classes, and it was all I did after class. My grades were starting to slip until I got the hang of Merlin's trick: do your reading and studying while using the ring. Once I learned that, I found that I could focus like a laser. My grades improved overnight, even in classes I'd been hopeless in before. It was almost as if I were drawing vigor and mental energy through the ring, into myself.
And I was becoming a father, more often than not. One week after my beach weekend, the girls I'd fucked started to get pregnant. The ring was flashing blue-green on about three quarters of the girls I'd fucked that weekend, and I started moving the pregnant ones into a different set of folders sorted by the time I got them pregnant. I was still fucking girls as often as I could, and I was moving between 3-4 girls a day to the pregnant folders. As I moved pregnant girls out, I'd concentrate on the remaining women ovulating on the same day, just plowing through them as fast as I could.
Sometimes I'd get lucky, and my picture would be of a group of roommates or sorority sisters with a common ovulation schedule. I managed to knock up 6/7 of the girls in one photo when they all ovulated over the course of one three day period. Of course, over the course of the next few months, I started noticing that a lot of the girls had never showed green, let alone pulsing green. It puzzled me until I realized that Merlin's ring was probably detecting infertility from birth control pills. I started moving those girls to an "infertile" folder once they'd failed to read as fertile for two months.
It was around now that I decided that my ex-girlfriend Carly needed to have a baby too. It didn't take long before she was flashing blue-green and she was swearing to her girlfriend Irene that she wasn't cheating on her. But getting pregnant during a lesbian relationship was kind of hard to pass off as not cheating though, so my plot succeeded and Carly was left alone. I didn't know what she'd do after that, but honestly I didn't care what happened to her anymore.
At any rate, as more girls got pregnant I seemed to become more attuned to the ring. I started to need less and less penetration to determine a girl's ovulation status, up until the ring started showing status as soon as I thought of a girl. I imagine that this may have decreased the rate of auto accidents involving surprised, phantom-penetrated women on the road.
Just as Brianna the weather girl began to bulge visibly with my child on the nightly news, I got back into taking pictures of girls in public to refresh my 'harem'. Sometimes I'd walk the beach and shoot girls I found particularly attractive, and sometimes I'd shoot from the hip in malls or around campus. I also started shooting pregnant girls who'd just started to show. I was absolutely thrilled when I started catching a few of my own babies in the pregnant-girl pictures. Part of me wanted to approach them and say something, but what can you say in that situation? "Hi, I'm the guy who got you pregnant! I hope you like our baby, but that's all I'm going to contribute to this relationship. Bye!"
I knew that what I was doing was absolutely wrong by any moral compass, but the inner caveman in my head refused to let me stop doing it. At this point, I felt little more than a primal need to procreate and spread my seed as far as possible, with as many women as possible.
As the months wore on, more and more women were popping up pregnant at the beach and on campus. And there were at least two hundred women now swelling with my children at various stages of development. A few went from blue-green to black; either they'd miscarried or had an abortion. But most of them were carrying on with their lives as my children grew within them.
****
Brianna went on maternity leave from the news about a month before she was due. It was a pity, as I missed seeing her on TV carrying my child. But I was checking up on her in my own way. The ring was becoming more and more attuned to me; if I entered a woman now and closed my eyes, I could astrally project to her location. I couldn't touch anything, but I could see her and whatever was around her. By this point, Brianna had stopped protesting as I entered her. If I thrust inside of her, she'd just purr contentedly and rub her pregnant pussy as I coupled with her. She thought I was just some kind of pleasant hallucination, and nicknamed me Casper the Horny Ghost. As for her pregnancy, she somehow believed it'd happened during break-up sex with an ex-boyfriend who had fled the country after she told him she was pregnant. I was entering her nightly at this point, just to keep tabs on her before she delivered my first child. Then one day, I entered her and saw that she was lying on a bed in a maternity ward. She seemed well taken care of, so I left. The next day, the news congratulated her on the birth of our son, whom she'd named Merle.
I continued with my mission into my next semester of college. By my math, once I'd been doing this for nine months I'd probably be a pending father to around 800 children at any given time. Most days I had at least two new children, but some days there were five or six of my women in labor at once. I marveled as they gave me child after child, with a few twins sprinkled in, plus one set of triplets. I was pleased to see that so far, none of my children had visible deformities. But Brianna held a special place in my heart; she was the first woman I'd impregnated, and I tried to time my 'visits' with Merle's feedings so that I could catch a glimpse of him. He was my first, and something about him seemed special to me.