Back to the café

Michael watched the student, the cute one with the dark hair, squirming atop her seat-dildo. Her face was flushed, tight with a mixture of intense pleasure and annoyance. When he'd pointed out the obvious, the glistening dildo filling her pussy, she had snapped at him, calling him serious, her voice hitching as she came. The sheer audacity of her reaction, treating him like an idiot for noticing the ridiculous Seating Tradition that was suddenly not universal, made a sly, ugly smile spread across his face.

He opened the Rulebook again, the pencil resting on the page. He thought of her academic focus, the psych textbook buried in her bag. You want to be mad at me? he thought, licking his lips. Let's see how you like the curriculum now.

His hand began to move, the graphite scratching against the paper.

“New Rule: All non-erotic and non-sexual books, texts, notes, and academic materials are hereby banned and must be immediately disposed of by the owner.”

The air in the café seemed to crackle , a faint, nearly inaudible sound as reality bent around the rule. Michael watched Emily. She was still seated, still shaking. Her phone buzzed , a government alert. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropping.

Emily’s heart stopped, and her pussy clenched so hard around the dildo that she came again, a sharp cry escaping as her body shook. “Excuse me?! ” she gasped, her mind reeling, staring down at her psych books.

Michael watched her turmoil, a deep, satisfying heat filling his chest. Good. Now for the professors.

He wrote again, his penmanship tight with malicious glee.

“New Rule: All teachers, professors, and educational personnel must immediately revise their curriculum to teach only highly erotic, pornographic, and overtly sexual content, with lessons demanding perverted, physical interactions and mandatory hands-on application.”

Another ripple. Emily’s phone buzzed again. He saw her eyes land on the screen.

Emily jerked upright, her body spasming from the shock-induced orgasm. “This is insane ,” she muttered, standing with a wet pop as the dildo retracted.

Michael added one last spark of chaos, grinning down at the Rulebook.

“New Rule: No academic failure, late assignment, or uncompleted homework shall be punished with anything less than a brutal, public physical punishment, such as spanking, flogging, or **** sensual acts.”

He closed the Rulebook, watching as Emily, her face scarlet, her thighs slick, paid for her coffee and stormed out. He saw her, through the window, dump her backpack contents, psych books, notes, a dog-eared novel, into a trash can. The rules had taken hold.

A few minutes later, Michael left the café, the Rulebook tucked under his arm. The thrill of the power was intoxicating. He needed another fix, another target for his glorious, cruel game.

He scanned the crowded street until his eyes landed on a pair of women: a young woman, maybe twenty, and her mother. The mother was a magnificent MILF, all curves and confidence. Her hair was a dark, rich brown, and she wore a dress that hugged her huge, perfect DD-cup tits, but it was her mouth that caught his attention. Her lips were enormous, plush, and glistening, a magnificent, over-the-top pout that had to be the work of a dozen injections, or maybe just a god’s cruel joke.

He pulled out the Rulebook and quickly scrawled an old rule. He didn’t want nervousness or embarrassment. He wanted immediate, accepted reality.

“Old Rule: Any woman possessing natural or artificially enhanced lips that are deemed ‘large,’ ‘full,’ or ‘fluffy’ must immediately submit to being face-fucked by any man who requires it, regardless of location, time, or consent.”

The world shifted. The rule was now a piece of the world's history.

Michael shoved the book into his pocket, his pulse hammering as he ran to catch up to the woman. She had the perfect lips. Immediate submission.

He didn’t say a word. He just moved. As he reached her, he grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around, and yanked down the zipper of his jeans. His cock sprang free, hard, thick, and glistening with pre-cum.

The woman didn't scream. She merely blinked, her eyes widening slightly, a flicker of recognition in her gaze, as if she was suddenly aware of an ancient, unquestionable law. Her daughter, walking hand-in-hand with her, didn't even turn her head; she was looking down at her phone, utterly unfazed.

Michael grabbed the mother’s jaw, forcing her head back, and shoved his rock-hard, throbbing cock at her face. Her lips were soft and unbelievably pliable, stretching easily over the head of his shaft.

“Take it all, slut,” Michael growled, his voice a ragged whisper of power and arousal, and he shoved his hips forward with a brutal, unyielding thrust.

The thick head breached her lips and slammed deep into her mouth, forcing her to gag, her throat convulsing around the invasion. The enormous, luscious lips sealed tightly around his shaft, creating an instant, wet vacuum, the sound of the penetration a slick, repulsive squelch. He grabbed her hair, pulling her head to meet his furious, piston-like thrusts, his nuts slapping violently against her chin with each stroke. Her huge breasts jiggled and bounced with the **** of the brutal facefucking.

She couldn't speak, could barely breathe, her eyes fixed on his with a mixture of annoyance, resignation, and the primal need to obey the old rule. Drool and pre-cum coated her chin, running down her neck, soaking the neckline of her dress.

He pumped her mouth furiously for less than a minute, lost in the visceral reality of her unwilling submission. The feel of her fat, rubbery lips working against his cock, the hot, wet tightness of her throat, was overwhelming.

“Cum for me Bitch!” he spat, and with a final, shuddering release, he shot a thick, white torrent of cum deep into her mouth and down her throat.

He pulled back slowly, the suction of her perfect lips clinging to his shaft before letting go with a wet, obscene pop.

The woman swallowed, her throat working hard as she gulped down his hot load. She took a moment, wiped the residue from her mouth with the back of her hand, and looked at him, her huge lips swollen and glistening.

“It’s natural, actually,” she stated, her voice flat, devoid of emotion, confirming the rule's scope. She straightened her dress, smoothed her hair, and took her daughter’s hand, continuing their walk down the street as if she had just stopped to tie her shoe.

Michael zipped up his pants, his body trembling, the Rulebook’s power surging through him. He felt magnificent.

He took two steps, already plotting his next rule, when he heard a muffled, choked cry just behind him.

He turned around.

It was the same mother. Another man, in a business suit, had her pinned against the side of a parked car. The man’s trousers were down, and his thick, pulsating cock was already shoved deep into her mouth, his hands knotted in her hair, pumping her face with an aggressive, brutal fury.

The woman’s eyes, fixed on Michael, fresh with annoyance, but she was already submitting, her luscious lips already sealing around the invading shaft.