Grace McAllister (USA, 2042 A.D.)

Grace had always known that she had a destiny. Every girl had a destiny to be a slut serving men, sure, and that was Grace’s destiny, too. But she also had to Save the World.

She couldn’t quite pinpoint when it all started, but she did remember a time when she arrived home from school to find her mother kneeling on the living room floor in front of a man she didn’t know. This was far from the first time that had happened, but this was the time that got Grace to ask her mother afterward why she was always kneeling in front of the men instead of the other way around.

Her mother sat her down on the same very-stained couch and showed her a little device her father had left her, about the size and shape of a pen. Her mother had never talked to her about her father before, but she did frequently after that. Anyway, Grace just remembered her mother shining a light from the little device in her eyes, and the next thing she knew everything just made way more sense.

This was not the last session with Grace, her mother, and the little device, but they grew less frequent over time as Grace matured and started to develop some intense interests. Every girl learned about submission and how best to please a man, but Grace applied herself in this area more aggressively than any of her friends. Her mother often had to wake her up, Grace having fallen asleep head-first on some book regarding philosophies or techniques. She felt a need, not just to fulfill the duties that every girl had, but to be the best at it that anybody had ever been. And she not only wanted herself to be the best, she wanted every other girl to be the best, too. Nothing annoyed Grace more than seeing a woman shirking her duties to a man, or performing those duties sloppily or with less than total enthusiasm. Didn’t those women know how lucky they were to be allowed to serve men?

The other class she really showed an interest in was history. Grace thought that if she could really figure out where all the problems in the world started, that would be the first step to solving them. And, based on what her mother had said, and what she, somehow, believed in her heart, she also combed everywhere she could to find glimpses of her father. He may not have realized it, but had left his imprints everywhere, on hieroglyphs, in classic literature, and even in the occasional background of a newsreel. She just knew that one day he would come for her, to get her out of this stupid town and this stupid world.

To her friends, these interests made perfect sense, but Grace also had one they didn’t get: she became a devout Masterite. Attendance at galders continued to dwindle, not even her mother had gone until Grace started dragging her every Tuesday morning. None of her friends understood how she could possibly really believe that there was a literal Master showing men and women the best way to live their lives. How could he have appeared to both Epona and Goodcunt, who lived so far apart in years? And why hadn't he shown himself to anybody since?

She couldn’t explain it, but something inside Grace was absolutely certain that Masterism wasn’t just a helpful metaphor for living her life, but literally true. She heard the old stories and it felt like she was really there, feeling the thrill of really, fully submitting to men for the first time. And What she eventually realized was that nothing got her hotter than watching a woman really accept the True Path and realize the bliss it could bring her, preferably with a cock in her pussy as she did. Tuesday mornings became the highlights of her week.

One aspect of Masterism fascinated her in particular, the Promised Whore. The Master reappeared to Epona later in her life, and after a lot of reunion fucking told her that if her people ever strayed from the True Path, the Promised Whore would come to put them back on track and help all of humanity reach perfection. It seemed to Grace that there was a lot of straying from the True Path going on these days, and it was prime time for the Promised Whore to show up. She was not alone in this opinion, late night TV was full of evangelical sagars invoking the return of the Promised Whore any day now. Just as had been happening, in one version or another, for a couple thousand years at this point.

After years of learning theory and watching others, Grace finally turned 18, and was able to publicly put everything she had studied into practice. Her Consenting wasn’t scheduled until a few months later (the calendar was always pretty full), and she took the opportunity to hone her skills every chance she got. And she had a lot of chances. She had filled out into the perfect image of a blonde bombshell, with spectacular, natural E-cup breasts that she had been getting compliments on for years by the time she really got to use them. Her mother had once been quite the looker, she was told, but Grace was next level, and she intended to take advantage of it. And once she came of age, she got so much exercise just from sucking and fucking that she barely needed to go to the gym anymore to stay in incredible shape.

In fact, though she had never seen 18-year-old boys turn down the offers of pretty girls before, she quickly tired out all the boys in her classes. Then she ran through several of her more friendly neighbors, and then she started offering her services on Slyt (a phone app that allowed men to see available girls in their immediate area). She had to pay for access, not the men, since in theory she was the one looking to attract a Master, but she found it to be completely worth it.

The moment Grace had her first cock inside her, she knew for sure that this is what she was born to do. To serve cocks, and to help other women serve cocks. She never felt complete without a dick in one of her holes. She even took to wearing egg vibrators inside both her pussy and her ass when there were no men around, to keep her horniness up to snuff. It was a great cliche of YA literature that girls worried about doing anal for the first time, then found it not to quite be what they had imagined, before eventually coming around. But Grace’s ass took its first cock (that of her high school’s quarterback) like it had been doing it for years, and she came harder than she ever had before.

Her history teacher summed it up one morning in the library as she bounced on his dick. “I’ve been doing this for a few decades now,” he said, “and I’ve never fucked anyone who was as much a natural at this as you.”

That was when she asked him if she could come, and he agreed. She screamed in total ecstasy. From nearby, a librarian shushed her.

Grace wore out some of the girls in her classes, too. She believed, based on her reading and observations, that lesbian sex was a sorely underdeveloped aspect of serving the Master. It might seem counterintuitive, but she knew that most men were very into the thought of two girls fucking, especially if the two girls were fucking especially for the man. So if the purpose of a woman’s orgasm was to serve a man, wouldn’t the purpose of a woman making another woman orgasm also be to serve men? Another of her pet peeves was people who used Masterism to try to say that LGBT people shouldn’t exist. She felt that this was a complete misreading of the relevant texts, and another way that humanity had Strayed from the Path.

And yeah, she really liked it when another girl licked her pussy, especially if she had a dick in her mouth or her ass at the same time. So the whole thing seemed like a no-brainer.

When it was finally time for Grace’s Consenting, there was some discussion of which man should assist with the ceremony. Unlike several of her friends at school, Grace had never really had a steady boyfriend. She saw no reason to limit herself to one boy when she could have all of them. Normally, if there was no eligible candidate, the honor might fall to an older male family friend, or to the congregation’s sagar himself if he was a man. But Grace had other plans.

When Sagar Jameson asked who would be assisting with her Consenting, Grace pulled her mouth off the Sagar’s cock, turned to the audience, and asked if it would be all right if the entire galder pitched in. After all, they had all helped make her the cunt she was today.

The congregation, men and women, could not all fit on the dais, but Grace made it her mission to make each of them come that morning. And she succeeded in her mission. And then, when her hair was caked with jizz and cum oozed down her face and tits, the Sagar asked her what her new name would be, and she announced proudly that from now on she would be “Slutqueen.”

The Sagar hesitated, as normally a woman’s Masterite name emphasized her submission. But he could hardly doubt this particular girl’s commitment on that front, and so Slutqueen McAllister was born.

She knew it was dumb, but Slutqueen had really been hoping that her father might come to the Consenting. He hadn’t shown up before, why would he then? And sure enough, there were no strange men there. So she washed herself in the galder’s sacred cleaning chamber, then headed to the party her friends were throwing for her.

“So, what the fuck is a queen?” asked her friend Titslave, as she and Slutqueen casually fingered each other on the couch, drinking illicit beers, for the appreciation of several of the boys in their class. Well, friend was probably a overstatement.

“It’s an old word for a female ruler,” Slutqueen explained. “Like Needycunt in 1600s England. And you have to open your legs more. You want the guys to see how wet them watching us makes you.”

Titslave ignored her instructions. “You and your weird history shit. Who would even want a woman in charge? That’s insane.”

“I think it’s a perfect name,” said a man in the crowd. Slutqueen had never met him before, but she had seen him many times, including in some hieroglyphics. As soon as she saw him, it was like the last tumblers clicked into place in her mind, and she knew exactly how she was going to fulfill her destiny.

A few minutes later, she and her father found some privacy sitting next to each other on a swing on the back porch. “I can’t believe how perfect you turned out,” he said. “You’re hot as fuck.”

She blushed. “Thanks, but you don’t have to say that, Master.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “If you weren’t my daughter, I’d…well, anyway, I came because I thought you might be ready now. Are you? Ready, I mean?”

She looked him in the eye and said, “Master, I’ve never been more ready for anything ever.”

“Good,” he said. He handed her a complicated device not too dissimilar from a wristwatch. “I’ll show you how to use it.”