The World Tour

The Professor let Cumdumpster orgasm at least three more times, then sprayed all over her face. Afterward, she sat next to him on the bench, his cum still dripping down her chin. She laughed.

“Fuck, most men aren’t willing to do that to me,” she said. “They’re scared I’m gonna break. So, whaddaya think? Am I good enough for your client?”

“I’m my client,” The Professor said as he buckled his pants.

Cumdumpster blinked, then smeared some cum away from her eyes. “Oh. I, um, I don’t know you.”

“Don’t worry, cunt, I’ve got enough money,” he said with a smirk. “And I do have an offer for you, actually.”

The Professor explained that he was planning to see the world “for evaluational purposes.” He told her he needed a guide slash fucktoy for his trip, somebody who was used to this world and could show him around.

“Why do you think I know any more than you do?” she asked.

“I’ve been away for a while,” he told her.

Before they talked about it further, he let her go home to clean up. Her apartment, it turned out, was nearby. It was even sparer than Slutcunt’s, as she clearly didn’t have a lot of money. He asked her how she paid for it, and she said she worked nights as a “Comp Girl” at a local movie theater while she looked for acting gigs, before going to take a shower.

He had been paying enough attention to know that the “Comp” was short for “Complimentary.” That is, she was paid by the theater to hang out and be used by the paying male customers how they saw fit. A lot of businesses had them, but he couldn’t imagine movie theaters were particularly high on the ladder.

Soon Cumdumpster re-emerged from her bathroom freshly scrubbed, making sure to leave her towel behind before exiting. They discussed the details of his offer: she would be paid to travel with him, and he would have complete rights to her use during the trip, though there were no guarantees for anything afterward.

“I hope you enjoyed those orgasms today,” he told her, “because they’ll be your last for a while.”

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, as a condition of your taking the job, you can’t come unless I give you permission.”

She shrugged. “I mean, that’s just common courtesy, right?”

*****

In New York, they took a ferry to view the Statue of Liberty, who was, of course, depicted completely naked. She was actually pretty hot, The Professor thought. Later, they took a walk through Central Park, stopping at one point for a vigorous assfucking against a tree. Cumdumpster now wore a collar around her neck, to symbolize that a man had exclusive rights with her.

At one point, a man and woman passed by, she wearing her own collar. He saw The Professor fucking Cumdumpster and walked over. His wife, an enjoyably plump thirty-something with dark hair and a full tan, sighed and waited, her arms crossed over her ample tits.

“Do you mind if I jump in?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” The Professor agreed, and soon the stranger had his cock in Cumdumpster’s mouth while he continued to fuck her ass.

“This is the third time today, Jonny!” the man’s wife called to him impatiently in a heavy Brooklyn accent. “We still gotta get to the butchah’s before your cousin and his bitches come ovah for dinner.”

“Ya think I don’t know that?” the man called back, annoyed. He gestured widely with his hands while cock remained stuffed in Cumdumpster’s mouth. “Are ya gonna get over here and help or not?”

*****

In London, The Professor took Cumdumpster to a production of the Royal Shakespeare Company. He was especially excited because it was a play with which he was unfamiliar, Timonius and Octavia. It told the story of…well, honestly, The Professor didn’t 100% get everything that happened, given the things Cumdumpster was doing to his cock, but it had something to do with the fact that the leading couple wanted to actually get married after a lot of on-stage boning. Timonius got a long speech about the difference between sex and love, he was sure it would have been very insightful had he fully been paying attention.

That night, the pair of them walked along the Thames, and it was all weirdly… nice? Back at the hotel, he caught her taking some pills he didn’t recognize, and he asked her about it. The brand name was “Eroticex” and it was supposed to increase her sex drive by 200%. Basically, she was taking fuckpet adderall, he realized. That was just who she was.

The next day he had the Full English at a pub, while Cumdumpster had her breakfast under the table. Maybe due to the pharmaceutical assistance, he was not noticing any particular waning of her enthusiasm. It was admirable, he supposed. In the corner, a somewhat beaten down Comp Girl, wearing a little too much makeup, was giving a sloppy blowjob to an older local as he sipped on his 9 a.m. pint.

Afterward, the two of them went by Buckingham Palace. Cumpdumpster (with The Professor’s permission) did her best to get one of the beefeaters to crack his facade by giving him a blowjob. As she did so, she took a selfie. She posted it afterward as they walked away, cum still dripping down her chin.

“Can I ask, why do you post yourself sucking cock online so much?” The Professor asked her as she looked up from her phone.

She thought about this for a minute. “I mean, why do men post about themselves hiking or grilling? I just want people to know I’m good at something.”

*****

In Paris, they visited the Louvre. The Professor was pleased to note how many of the women in the classic paintings now had cum on their faces, or cocks inside them, or both. The Mona Lisa was still there, though now she was, of course, nude. He felt like her pretty nice tits took her from about a six to maybe an eight.

In front of Botticelli’s masterpiece, “The Master Fucks the Prophet Bonvica’s Ass” (which, though an impressive painting, The Professor thought did not quite capture the spirit of the moment), they made something of their own reenactment. The way Cumdumpster screamed obscenities reminded him more of Epona, actually. She also asked him if she could cum, for the third time on their trip so far, and for the third time, he told her no.

Afterward, Cumdumpster lay on a bench in the Louvre, breathing hard, her asshole still gaping a little, and put her face in her hands. The Professor could tell she was realizing he wasn’t going to let her come anytime soon, and if she did, it wouldn’t just be a faux pas. She’d literally signed a contract. And he could tell that the mix of the denial and her prescription was starting to get to her.

He never ceased to be surprised at what had stayed the same between timelines and what had changed. There was still a very similar-looking Mona Lisa, most of the street names were the same, but there was no Notre Dame Cathedral. There was a large Galder at the other end of the Ile de la Cite. Galders turned out to be different architecturally from churches (generally they were round, at least generally, with a raised platform in the middle, rather than the usual plan of a church with the altar at one end), but somehow the general feel was still the same. In this case, flying buttresses supported the outside of a dome-like structure from medieval times.

On a bench along the Seine near the Galder, The Professor had a sudden thought and put Cumdumpster under using his Portable Visual Recalibrator. While she slumped over, he told her she would double her dosage of Eroticex and that she would now be physically incapable of coming without his permission. On a whim, he also told her to stop taking her birth control pills, though she wouldn’t realize what she was doing. He knew they were now provided free by the government to all women, but he had other plans for her.

*****

By the time they got to Rome, The Professor noticed that Cumdumpster was starting to feel the effects of the change in dosage. She seemed distracted, and several times he noticed her juices leaking from her cunt and down the insides of her thighs. They almost missed their tour of the ancient Forum because she begged him to fuck her hard that morning in their hotel room, and he found he didn’t have the heart to refuse.

On their tour, they visited the Triumphal Arch of Maxentius near the Colosseum, and in one corner he spied a relief depicting a weird-looking dude with a major boner sticking his cock in the mouth of the Empress.

He pointed it out to Cumdumpster. “That’s me.”

She blinked at him for a moment. Then she burst out laughing. It didn’t sound like an entirely sane laugh.

“You’re so weird, Master,” she said, with a somewhat random, though not ineffective, caress of his crotch.

She hadn’t really called him Master since their interview, when she was really trying to butter him up. He got the impression that unless you were a Masterite, it was considered pretty formal, almost as if she were addressing him as “sir.” But on their way to Italy, he noticed she had started up again. Now she seemed to be putting more feeling behind it.

The Galder had never been quite as centralized as the Catholic Church, which meant that there was a whole neighborhood of Rome that existed in this world had been taken up by the Vatican in The Professor’s original timeline. There was a great little pasta restaurant there where they had dinner that night. He let Cumdumpster eat at the table with him for once, and she told him about her childhood in a small town in Indiana, and how hard she had worked on her body and her sluttiness in order to get out. There were occasional digressions to some of her favorite dicks she’d had over the years, but he supposed he could forgive that under the circumstances.

“Did you ever think you’d be in Rome with a strange man’s cock up your ass?” he asked her.

“I mean, isn’t that every little girl’s dream?” she asked him. “I feel just like Fuckbunny Hepburn in that movie.”

“Roman Holiday?” he ventured.

“No, Master,” she told him. “Roman Fuck-cation. You say such weird things sometimes.”