Valeria Maximilla (Rome, 312 A.D.)

The Emperor Maxentius walked through his palace on an October morning, and thought that things seemed to be looking up. The usurper Constantine was approaching Rome with his army, sure, but he had consulted the augurs, and they assured him that his victory was inevitable. After all, the battle would take place on the anniversary of his ascension to the throne, six years earlier. Maxentius would lead his Praetorian Guard out to meet the invaders, and he would look Constantine in the eye and shout something about how he was going to avenge his father. He was still working on what exactly, but it would come to him.

As the Emperor neared the living areas of the Palace, he probably would have noticed the distinct lack of guards, had he not been so lost in his own thoughts. So when he walked into his bedchamber and discovered his lovely wife, the Empress Valeria Maximilla, on her knees, sucking another man’s cock, he was surprised

“Oh hi,” The Professor said. He gestured down the dark-haired beauty with her lips wrapped around his member. “Sorry, I just couldn’t resist.”

Valeria came up for breath briefly, spit trailing from her chin. “I’m sorry, Emperor, but the Master here explained everything, and it’s my responsibility…”

“Did I say you could stop, bitch?” The Professor growled.

“I’m sorry, Master, so sorry,” she said quickly, before going back to work.

“I don’t know who you are or what you have done to my wife to make her do this,” Maxentius shouted, “but you have already committed several offenses punishable by ****. Guards!” No response came, so he yelled again. “Guards!”

“I gave them the day off,” The Professor told him. “Oh yeah, you’re pretty decent at this.” He turned to the Emperor. “Has she been doing this for you? ‘Cause I’ll tell ya, she’s doing it for somebody.”

“Fine,” Maxentius replied, “I will kill you myself.”

He stepped toward them, but The Professor held up a hand and said, “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you. Not if you want to win tomorrow.”

Valeria just gurgled.

Maxentius hesitated. “Who are you?”

The Professor held out his hands wide in a “ta-da” gesture. “I am…the Master.”

“The God of the Masterites?” Maxentius laughed. “I have sent the followers of Masterism to my arenas. Where were you then? And what use does a God have for…” He looked back down at his wife. He has never seen her so… enthusiastic.

“Hey, how many mortal women did Jupiter fuck? And anyway…ahh, that tongue, fuck…you know your wife. Does she give a lot of blowjobs to random strangers?”

“I…” Maxentius hesitated, somehow transfixed by the sight of Valeria’s wild abandon in her task. He found the sight of her being used by another man strangely arousing. Of course, it had never happened before because adultery with the Empress was a capital offense, but maybe if it was by his own leave, and he brought in a well-muscled gladiator…

“Here, I want to talk to you, but I’m… getting close. One sec.” And a few seconds later, The Professor grunted and blew his load in Valeria’s mouth. He held the back of her head as his did so, not letting her pull away. She moaned with ecstasy. When he was finished, he told her “You know what to do.”

She swallowed his load, then opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to show that she had gotten it all. How did she know what to do, Maxentius wondered, especially given that she’d never done that for him before?

The Professor nodded toward the imperial bed and said, “Why don’t you go wait over there and edge yourself while the men talk, cunt. But remember, no coming without permission.”

Valeria nodded enthusiastically and nearly ran to the bed. The Professor pulled up his pants and turned back to the Emperor. “Today’s your lucky day, Max. I’m gonna tell you exactly how you were gonna lose tomorrow, and all you have to do is just… not do that stuff. Sound good? I have just a teensy ask in return.”

Maxentius was skeptical at first, but he thought about it briefly and realized the augurs had been wrong before. And clearly this stranger had, at least, done something… surprisingly interesting to his wife. So it was at least worth it to hear the stranger out, he reasoned. Who knows, maybe all those Masterites that kept bothering him had a point after all?

“I can guarantee you victory over Constantine,” The Professor told him. “All you have to do is convert to… what did you call it, Masterism?… and proclaim it the official religion of the Empire.”

Maxentius still hesitated, though admittedly he was a little distracted by what was going on over on the bed. Valeria had started rubbing her clit, making her large breasts bounce with every motion, her eyes closed in ecstasy. “Even if I believed you, I am an only Emperor because I was proclaimed so by the people. If I try to **** them to change their beliefs…”

“Dude, look at your wife,” The Professor said. “She will do anything you say. I mean anything. What if that was every woman? All the time? No guy will ever say no to that once he sees it. And the women… what the Masterites already know is that this is a cunt's natural state. They’re only really free when they’re submitting to a man. They’re happier this way. Hey bitch,” he called over his shoulder, “how would you like to feel this way all the time?”

“Oh fuck,” she groaned, as her hand increased in speed. It translated from the Latin surprisingly well. “I was so worried about politics and social events and being a fucking Empress… Master, all I am is a fucking cunt. Please, Master, can I come? I need to come so fucking bad.”

“If the Emperor says yes, I’ll let you come,” The Professor told her. He turned back to Maxentius. “So, whaddaya say?”

“Please say yes,” Valeria gushed, squirming wildly. “Every woman in the Empire needs to know what she is: a horny, wet, willing bunch of fuckholes. Every woman ready and willing to fuck all the time, to let men do whatever they want to her. Master, it makes me so fucking hot thinking about it. Please, oh Master, please…”

Maxentius managed to pull his eyes away for a split second and said. “Indeed, we have a deal.”

The Professor grinned. “Sounds like we have a battle plan to go over. Oh, and you can come, bitch.”

Valeria screamed.

*****

Both Emperor and Empress appeared before the Praetorian Guard that night and announced that they had been visited by the Master, and a conversion ceremony was held in which Valeria’s pussy was shaved and she took a Masterite name. The new Empress Fuckslut sucked several of the Guard's cocks and after that any misgivings seemed to vanish and morale was at an all time high.

The Professor did not see the battle the next day, he was staying far away from mass slaughter if he could help it. But when Maxentius came back through the gates of Rome in his gold chariot, along with what looked like most of the rest of his Guard and a horse dragging a very gross dead body behind it, he assumed that all had gone according to plan.

The body turned out to be Constantine himself, which some part of The Professor thought he should be upset by. This was the first time on his travels that he had seen firsthand his manipulations lead to someone’s ****, though he supposed it had happened lots before now. But on the other hand, in his original timeline Maxentius had drowned in the Tiber while attempting to flee, so it all evened out, maybe? Really, he didn’t know how any of this stuff actually worked. Was he just creating a new timeline every time he changed something, while the old one was still there, or was the old one completely obliterated?

Maybe eventually he would figure that stuff out, but for now the combination of the victory celebrations and the change in the state religion distracted him very effectively. The word might have been Greek, but nobody did orgies quite like the Romans. The next several days were chaotic to say the least.

Of course, he had used his inventions to rewrite Empress Fuckslut’s brain, but most of the women of Rome were left to learn about their new circumstances on the fly. The majority of them adjusted surprisingly quickly, with many (The Professor might even say most), finding out that they liked being Masterites. It made everything so much easier, even though there was a little bit of a learning curve with all those Commandments to memorize. And once you learn that there’s nothing shameful or wrong about it, a lot of women did, it turned out, want to be constantly fucked. That week in Rome, hundreds of thousands of women found what they had been missing.

There were some holdouts, women who, for whatever reason, were unwilling to change. Perhaps they felt a particular devotion to another, less hands-on deity, or they had just thought the previous status quo was pretty good. However, there did not turn out to be any need for The Professor to actually control anyone else. The men of the city quickly fucked any rebellious women into submission. It’s hard to fight back against society when you’ve got one cock in your ass and another in your mouth. A few fled the city, but the Empire was large, and it was good at building roads: soon the decrees of Maxentius would reach every corner.

So when The Professor walked the streets of Rome a few days later, he was happy with what he saw. Woman after woman serving men’s cocks, and not just that, but doing it with a smile. They begged the men to fuck them, to **** them, to punish them for breaking the Master’s commandments, for taking so long to see the light of the True Path, and suffice to say that very few men refused.

On a whim, he went up the Palatine Hill and visited what had been the Temple of Vesta. There was no need for the Goddess of the Hearth anymore, but he was more interested in the six “Vestal Virgins” who had attended its sacred flame. One of them greeted him at the entrance, immediately dropping to her knees in front of him.

“Master,” she said, “I have not had the chance to clean myself since I was last fucked. I know that I’m violating the 19th Commandment, but that is no excuse to violate the First. How may I service you, Master?”

He saw then that she had jizz leaking from her naked pussy. The other men of the city of course had the idea of deflowering the Vestal Virgins right away and had beaten him to it. Still, she was incredibly beautiful (the Priestesses were chosen from the city’s most beautiful women, after all), naked, and very willing.

“Tell me, Cunt,” he asked, “How do you like your new God? Better than your old one?”

“Master, I thought I was happy,” she told him. “I gained satisfaction through my devotions. But…it’s nothing compared to the satisfaction I feel now. I can’t believe I was missing this all those years.”

So he fucked her up the ass on the steps of the temple, while the former Priestess yelled about how her former patron Vesta was a repressed bitch who just needed a good plowing. He asked her at one point why she had done that, and she said it was because she thought he would think it was hot. It turned out that he did.

*****

The Professor thought that his plan had gone about as well as he could have hoped, and so he excitedly prepared to return to his own time, confident that whatever trouble he’d been in was likely to be moot. All this was fun in Ancient Rome, but he couldn’t wait to return to a modern world where women were nothing but fucktoys, and hadn’t been anything else for going on 2000 years.

So he made his preparations, and headed to a back alley before activating his device. The Professor had decided to return to the same spot in Washington, DC. He halfway hoped he’d run into Jessie the former Congressional Aide again, to see how she had changed, but if everything went well, that might not even be her name anymore, assuming she still even existed.

The Professor blipped into existence and immediately saw that he wasn’t where he had expected. He was in a public bathroom, with one toilet and sink. He double checked the coordinates before realizing that this was the same spot. A new course of history must have changed the city layout. No biggie, at least he was alone.

He opened the door and realized, to his amusement, that he was in, of all places, a Starbucks. The place was crowded. He looked around and saw that the crowd was about two-thirds men. The women were all naked and attractive, and not only that, a handful of them were actively servicing the men. One in the corner (who he noticed had bright pink hair) was vigorously sucking the cock of the man next to her, while another woman with tanned skin and dark hair was slowly riding the dick of another man, cowgirl style, her clearly fake, round tits on display, while he casually drank his coffee.

The Professor was thrilled. All his changes must have worked. Women had been put in their place forever.

Then he noticed a girl behind the counter wearing a green apron over her lower torso and baseball cap, though that was all. She had a round face with Asian features and wore glasses, though he barely noticed anything but her perfect set of tits. He supposed it made sense that she’d need to wear some kind of uniform and that there were probably some sanitary issues about just having her handling food with her cunt out, but still, the apron was disappointing somehow. It also seemed a little strange that women would still have regular jobs if his utopia had come to pass.

He walked up to the counter and the girl, who looked like she was about 20, asked in a bored tone, “Hello, what can I get started for you today?”

“I’d like you to get down on your knees and give me a blowjob, bitch.”

The barista sighed and, sounding more tired than angry, replied, “I’m sorry, sir, I’m working right now. It’s against company policy.”

“Really?” The Professor asked. He noticed a small name tag affixed to the apron that read “Wetpussy.” “What about the Master and the True Path and all that?”

He glanced over his shoulder at the woman with the fake tits, still riding the man, her movements languid and sensual.

“Sir,” the girl said, clearly trying to sound official, “you can practice your religion wherever you’d like, but Starbucks is a safe space for all, and you know that the Twenty-Seventh Amendment says that I don’t have to suck your cock if I don’t want to.”

Well, shit.