Kara McAllister (Los Angeles, 2023 A.D.)

The Professor certainly felt that this new world was a pretty big improvement from his perspective, especially when compared to his original timeline. He did soon find, however, that his vision of “fuck any girl, any time, anywhere” had not quite been achieved. Or at the very least, not without major social consequences. Not only was marriage still a thing, it was somehow more complicated. Some guys had a bunch of girls attached to them, some guys had one, some guys just liked to fuck whoever they felt like, etc.

If a girl was a “practicing” Masterite, she was still morally obligated to screw any guy who wanted, regardless of whether she was married or in a relationship, but if not, fucking a claimed woman without her man’s permission remained severely frowned upon. The Professor got the impression that permission was relatively freely granted by most Masters, especially to guys that they knew in some way. This was also all contingent on various cultural practices depending on context and where you were, many of which remained completely opaque to him after several days. Dumbitch explained to him at one point, while he was balls deep in her skinny little ass, that her parents had immigrated to the U.S. from Korea, and that in her parents’ culture it was considered an insult for a guest not to fuck the host’s wife. Still, it was a far cry from being able to walk up to any woman he wanted and fuck them on the spot, to his chagrin. While the number of very available and willing women was way higher than in his original timeline, figuring out which women he was allowed to fuck when was somehow even more confusing.

Not only that, he also got the impression that, while it was nearly universally considered a good thing for a woman to be a massive slut and a bad thing for her not to be, it was more of an aspirational thing than a reality. There were government programs and PSAs and self-help books setting out to help women be bigger whores, but the reason those things existed was that the reality was more complicated. A lot of women had jobs, kids, obligations. Or maybe, like Dumbitch, they just didn’t find themselves the kind of girl that guys went for in a world where there was probably at least one hot naked chick in a given bar who would drop to her knees and blow you right there.

The Professor didn’t have too much time to worry about all that, though, given how much fun he was having. He found that the sweet spot, from his perspective, was women who were unclaimed, but actively looking for a man, as turned out to be the case with both Slutbunny and Dumbitch. Kind of like in his original timeline, except instead of swiping right and going on awkward dates, he found those women eager to do anything he wanted, and also to show off whatever particular skills they might have.

More than once over his first few days in this time, he found himself in a cafe or bar being approached by a young, beautiful, naked woman, dropping fairly unsubtle hints that she would be happy to ride him rough and hard right then and there. At first he took all of them up on it. Eventually, he found himself sometimes just wanting to eat lunch. Though rare was the lunch, he found, that could not be improved upon by a slow, sensual blowjob under the table.

The Professor spent the first week or so he spent in the “new present” getting his bearings and also having a lot of sex. He was having a good time, but he felt like something was missing. After all, he hadn’t just gone into the past to improve everyone’s lives, he’d done it to improve his own life. He thought about his trial and the world before. He remembered the prosecutor of his court case, Kara McAllister, most of all.

She was a prim blonde, whose whole life had been about ambition and advancement. He thought she was the sort of woman who looked at feminism as a weapon to beat him over the head with. She had clearly hoped that his case would lead her to bigger and better things, maybe even elected office. He remembered her righteous anger at his use of his inventions to control the minds of beautiful women. It never would have occurred to her that those women were so much happier once he was through with them.

If he had the choice of any woman in history to fuck the shit out of while he choked her, it might be her. And the thing was, he kind of _did _have the choice of any woman in history.

It took The Professor a while to find her. The timeline was weird, and he knew her name was probably not the same. He eventually figured out that she no longer lived in the same city, and had started to think that he had accidentally erased her from existence. This concept held a certain appeal, sure, but not as much as what he had in mind.

He eventually discovered a Cumdumpster McAllister now living in Los Angeles, where she had gotten her Fuckdoll Certification on a scholarship and was now doing her best to make a go of things as an actress, though not very successfully. He looked up her social media feed, and yep, it was her. The networks were all different in this reality and he was definitely not a member of any of them, but Slutbunny showed him this girl’s profile on one. Her most recent post included a video showing her at a bar, loud music playing the background as she got spitroasted by two men.

She could be seen pulling her mouth off a cock with a loud gasp for air, then said, “Hey studs, wish you were here, this place is lit” into the camera. The post had 12 likes, one of which was Cumdumpster’s mother.

“Master, this bitch is such a tryslut,” Slutbunny commented, her tone clearly indicating she was using the initial term as a pejorative rather than an honorific. His nanites foundered at the term ‘tryslut’, but The Professor found he had no need of a translation. “How do you know her again?”

“A past life,” The Professor said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Then he let Slutbunny ride him while he booked a plane ticket.

First, however, he stopped briefly in Vegas in 2015, where he placed a little $1,000 bet on Leicester City to win the English Premier League that year at 5,000 to 1. He had some plans that might need some liquid cash, and it was the easiest way he could think of on the spot to get it.

After some consideration, he told Ms. McAllister that he was coming. He sent her a message stating that he was a “recruiter” with an “opportunity” for her. Slutbunny told him that it actually wasn’t unheard of for very rich or famous men to see a girl somewhere, on the street or online, and decide on a whim that she would make a great 150th member of his harem. Even in his fucktopia, rich guys still got what they wanted to a completely unreasonable degree. Well, he could make more bets. Or just actual investments, though again that seemed like it would require actual planning.

And maybe that is what Cumdumpster thought was happening, because she immediately agreed to meet him. They made a dinner date at an apparently trendy fusion restaurant in Koreatown. Slutbunny told him it was what she would have done, meet the guy in public in case he’s a crazy person. The worst case scenario is he’ll buy you dinner and then you can have a quiet word with the guy at the front desk to kick him out. The Professor thought this sounded surprisingly like something out of his “Old Timeline,” but then he asked her what she would do if the guy she was meeting pushed her against the wall and stuck his dick in her pussy.

“Beg him for more, of course,” she said, looking at him like he maybe was a crazy person.

A couple days later, a waiter led him across the crowded restaurant until he saw her, waving to him from a table near a window. He would know that face anywhere, he had imagined covering it cum many times. Ms. McAllister was still somehow impeccably put together, even completely naked. Those tits were actually better than he had imagined, her pantsuits had not done them justice. Or maybe it was the tweaks the changed timeline had made to her genetics.

When he arrived at her table, he reached down, grabbed her ass, and squeezed. She grinned at him.

“Thank you, Master,” she said, and it sounded like she really meant it.

He roughly groped her tits before they sat down. “These are real,” he said appreciatively. “Nice.”

The bulgogi in front of her smelled great, actually.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I’ve thought of having them enhanced, if I was able to raise the funds, but… I’d be happy to do whatever your client wants with them.” She reached out and grabbed his cock through his pants, the grin still on her face. “I’d be happy to do anything you’d like.”

He halfway wanted to just throw her over the table and fuck her up the ass right then and there, but decided to wait just a little bit longer. He sat down across from her and said, “You don’t know me, cunt, but I’ve been following you for a while.”

“Really?” she asked eagerly. “I was so happy to get your call.”

“I just have a few questions for you,” he said trying to seem business-like and professional, “before the real interview begins. First, what do you think a woman’s role is. In society, I mean?”

She was not expecting that one. She closed her mouth, then opened it again, but was only thrown for a second. “To fuck and serve men, of course.”

“I know you got your Fuckpet Certification. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“On a man’s dick,” she said quickly.

“If I were to tell you that I was going to take total control of you and your body, to let you live exactly the life meant for a cunt on legs like you, and treat you like shit while I was doing it, how would you react?”

In response, she reached down beneath the table, so he couldn’t quite see what she was doing. He did see her briefly close her eyes and open her mouth slightly in pleasure at whatever was happening down there. Then she held her hand up to show him that several of her fingers were now clearly sticky and wet. Little trails of her juices now hung between her fingers when she pulled them apart.

“It would make me really fucking wet,” she told him.

He never did get to try any of that bulgogi.

*****

The Professor was able to restrain himself just enough to avoid smashing all the dishes and glasses on the table, and minutes later the two of them were at a metal park bench along Wilshire Boulevard as cars sped by. She sat down on the bench and pulled out his cock.

“Master, your cock is incredible,” she said appreciatively. He smirked. Slutbunny had been right. The girl was trying too hard. She had always been driven, focused. Now she was just driven and focused to show him what a massive slut she was.

She took his tip into her mouth and began to give him a relatively tender blowjob. That was all wrong. He grabbed the back of her head and pushed it forward, slamming his dick all the way down her throat.

“**** on it, bitch,” he growled.

He held her there for several seconds. He was actually a little impressed that she made no move whatsoever to struggle or pull away, or really much of any noise at all once she got over the initial shock. He nodded to a passing, naked mother pushing a stroller. She nodded back absent-mindedly.

Then he loosened his hold on the back of Cumdumpster’s head and she pulled back with a loud gasp, taking several heaving breaths. Huge trails of spit remained between her chin and his cock. She looked up at him, eyes watering.

“Thank you, Master,” she gasped out.

She pushed her mouth back onto his cock, this time deepthroating him herself. He kept his grip on the back of her hair and began to slam her head up and down on his rock hard cock, wildly face fucking her.

She made some glorping noises, but did a very good job taking all of it. He guessed that Fuckpet Certification was good for something after all.

When he felt himself getting close, he pulled her off of him, her carefully-applied mascara and lipstick now completely destroyed. She stared up at him, wide-eyed and gasping.

“Please fuck me, Master.”

He picked her up by the throat with both hands. She yelped, but did not struggle. Then he slammed her down on the bench on the back. He stood over her, positioning his cock over her pussy. He saw that she was dripping wet.

The Professor wondered, in that moment, whether Kara McAllister had always wanted this, deep down. For a man to wrap his hands around her throat and really give her what she deserved. A part of him thought (or hoped?) that might be true. Or was it that Cumdumpster McAllister had been raised in a world that taught her that the highest ambition to which she could aspire was to be just that, a cumdumpster? And she was ambitious.

Nature vs. Nurture. Oh well, he guessed he’d never know.

He spit in her face. She smiled widely at him, her smeared lipstick making the gesture seem almost feral. He squeezed his hands tighter around her throat, then slammed his dick into her without warning. Her mouth opened, gaping for air, her eyes wide.

After several thrusts, he loosened his grip just slightly. She took a deep breath, then croaked, “Please Master, may I come?”

He smiled down at her. He had barely gotten started. “Sure,” he said, then squeezed again.

Cumdumpster McAllister quivered uncontrollably on his dick there on the park bench as he choked her. Then he started piledriving his cock into her again.