Slutqueen’s Excellent Adventure

Grace’s given name had been The Professor’s idea, of course, along with a lot of the rest of her upbringing. Had anyone made the connection that this girl growing up in 21st century suburbia was, in fact, the long awaited Promised Whore, they would have thought the name a reference to her divine Grace, or something that effect. He personally thought of her more as his coup de grace. So it was kind of a pun.

Her chosen name, Slutqueen, was entirely her idea.

The Professor had done his best to survey the world he had wrought, and it was, in his opinion, of course a paradise compared to the old one. But he could still think of plenty of ways to improve it. The problem was, the timeline had proved very elastic. It seemed like the more changes he made, the harder it became to make changes. What he needed was to be everywhere at once, to “carpet bomb” the timeline, to use a distastefully violent metaphor.

But there were a few snags he identified with this idea. One was that it seemed like a lot of work for one person. This whole process was supposed to be fun! For him, specifically. The second was that, especially now that he had changed it a few times, a large percentage of the influential people who might need some convincing were men. He certainly had the means to influence these people, but see above re: fun for him. He had already dealt with this issue a few times using creative work-arounds, but he felt like he needed a larger-scale solution.

If someone else was going to be using his Time Machine, he needed someone he trusted absolutely. After all, in theory they could just go and kill him as a baby or whatever, and he couldn’t have that. One option would be to control someone into assisting him, the same way that he had done with his mind control technology and Lady Qigong in Ancient China. But he eventually decided that he had a much more interesting idea: he would create a new person and mold them into the person who would do exactly what he wanted, not because he was making them directly, but because doing so was their deepest desire.

It was also true that he thought the idea of a girl going around making sure that women stayed in their place forever, who some might see as the ultimate traitor to her gender, was hot as fuck.

*****

Runnymede, England - 1215 A.D.

“And so,” an elderly male Sagar intoned to the gathering of nobles in a clearing beneath an expansive canopy of trees, “after several days of negotiations, it appears that we are agreed on a charter of sixty-three guarantees of the rights of men.”

He turned to a tall, middle-aged man standing next to him with a bushy beard and a gold crown on his head, and nodded. A beautiful woman with blonde hair and full breasts hung from one of his arms, one of her hands stroking slowly inside his robe.

“I therefore ask, in the sight of the King and the Master, whether any here have any further items for discussion before the final charter is prepared and all men here affix their seals,” the Sagar continued.

“I have a proposal, Masters” said Slutqueen. She now knelt at one edge of the clearing on the forest floor, head bowed. Her only ornament was a strange, thick bracelet. All there could swear that no one had been there moments before. Several of the lords reached for their swords reflexively, but stopped when the girl remained still.

“And who are you, Cunt?” asked the Sagar.

“I am the daughter of the Master,” said Slutqueen evenly. “And the Masters here, even the King, would be wise to hear my words.”

This brought laughter from all present. “This cunt wonders if perhaps the King should punish this little bitch for her insolence,” the blonde woman said quietly, with a sly smile.

“This cunt wonders why Hotslut of Angouleme is not kneeling and servicing her Master as is proper for a true lady,” Slutqueen said just as quietly.

There was silence for a long moment, and then King John burst out laughing. This was immediately followed by laughter from all present, except for his companion. She stared at her Master for a long moment, then slowly sunk to her knees.

“So,” the King asked, as Hotslut began to undo his belt, “what would the daughter of the Master have added to the Great Charter?”

Slutqueen kept her eyes downcast. “The Charter lists the many rights of men in this Kingdom, but leaves out one of the most important. The right to fuck whichever girl they wish.”

*****

The Professor was all for diversity and so on, as far as it went. Variety is the spice of life, both when literal spices are involved and when spicy interpersonal relations were involved. But one thing he’d seen on his tour was that, when every girl is available to different people in different ways, and there isn’t one big set of rules, it makes everything into a confused negotiation. It took the fun out. So one of the biggest things he wanted was to take Masterism worldwide.

Conveniently, with only a few nudges, Slutqueen was a true believer. Not just because it was pretty easy to be into any religion that thought you were the messiah, but also because she believed in her soul that the True Path was the only way to real happiness. So she spent a lot of time banging her way through places like India, China, and Japan.

But Dominism was the toughest nut to crack, as it had come to dominate every aspect of life for a decent portion of the world since its beginnings with a minor King in medieval Yemen claiming to have a vision. Slutqueen was particularly offended by the practice of piercing girls’ pussies shut until their marriage. After all, those pussies should be for everyone, to keep them shut was an offense to the Master.

*****

Sana’a, Kingdom of Himyar - 525 A.D.

Slutqueen slowly moved her cunt up and down the cock of Zur’ah, King of the Himyarites, on a divan in his opulent royal chamber.

“You do need to keep your women in their place, Master,” she purred into his ear, in her sexiest whisper. “Keep them where they belong, sucking and fucking your long, hard cocks.”

“Yessss…” the King managed.

She somehow slowed down even further. “But you don’t need to work so long… and so hard… to write all of the new laws for your Kingdom, you can just teach your people the ways of the Master, and your women will be on their knees.”

“But our… our wives…”

“Yes, you are worried they will let other men into their tight… wet… needy… pussies…”

“I need… please…”

Slutqueen put her lips right up to the King’s ear and whispered. “Yes, think about all the young soft pink Masterite pussies you’ll get to come in, when you come in me, fill me, right…” She sped up her riding just slightly. “Now.”

The King groaned.

“Thank you, Master,” she purred.

*****

Even if the hegemonic world religion is telling people to do something, whether it’s not to eat fish on Fridays or to fuck any guy who wants to, it only helps so much if people still have the freedom not to follow it. But Slutqueen had some thoughts about that, too.

*****

Philadelphia, USA, 1787 A.D.

“The thing is, I know you want to give women the freedom to serve the Master as they believe best, and that sounds good, but… one sec.”

Slutqueen left off what she was saying to concentrate on sliding her throat all the way down James Madison’s surprisingly decent-sized cock, at the dais of the Constitutional Convention. She already had the jizz of several other founding fathers caking her hair and running down her face and tits.

Within seconds, Madison blasted his load in her mouth and she pulled away, briefly stuck out her tongue to show his cum to the Convention, and then swallowed.

“Okay, next!” she said brightly. Thomas Jefferson rose to his feet. “Anyway, it might seem crazy now, but if you give people the freedom to be any religion they wanted eventually a bunch of them are not going to even want to be Masterites. They’ll amend this thing to say girls don’t have to suck cock! What kind of system is that? Of course girls should have to suck cock!”

There was a cock, Jefferson’s, hanging in her face now, and she grasped it with one hand, squeezed playfully, then gave the tip a quick lick.

“I actually have some suggestions for things you might want to put in there, if you’re interested Masters. But I don’t have to stay…”

“I move we consider the proposed amendments of the Master’s daughter,” Jefferson choked out.

*****

Slutqueen told The Professor that women did not receive nearly enough training at pleasuring other women. He had not thought about this, for perhaps obvious reasons, but she made a good argument. What if multiple women serviced a man at once? They needed to know what to do. And this was only one overlooked area. Slutqueen was tired of badly-trained cunts, and set out to do something about it.

*****

Paris, France - 1404 A.D.

“So one technique I’m a big fan of is… OK, you make your mouth into the same shape as an “ah” noise, then you place your upper lip just above my clit. Just a little lower. There you go. Then you have your lower lip right above my opening and… uh huh, just a little pressure, and then I can grind into you, like this.”

Slutqueen began to ever so slightly move her hips around the head of the thin, dark-haired woman now busily engaged in licking her pussy. The two of them were in a stone room that seemed like it might be part of a medieval castle, pennants bearing costs of arms hanging from the wall. Slutqueen was laid back on the room’s canopied bed, the other woman’s head between her thighs.

“Ahh! See, you’re… you’re getting it! So, uh, while we’re… oh, that’s pretty good, a little to the left… there you go. While we’re here, I had a question for you. You’re… fuck. Not bad! You’re writing a book, right? All of Fuckpuppy de Pizan’s advice for the noble women of France?”

Fuckpuppy de Pizan moved her mouth just long enough to say, “Yes, oh Most Slutty of Whores.”

“None of that, OK? I’m just a cunt like you, no matter… wow, shit, just suck really lightly, yeah, right there right there right there shit!” Slutqueen took a second to control her breathing. “No matter who my Dad is,” she finished. “But I do want to make sure you put all this in your book, girls need to fuck each other more.”

Fuckpuppy continued eating out the Promised Whore for several more minutes, the divine girl’s fingers digging into her hair as her legs tensed around her. But she was careful never to come, pushing Fuckpuppy’s tongue away each time as she edged closer, before showing her a new technique. As the 42nd Commandment taught, the purpose of a woman’s orgasm, after all, is the pleasure of a man.

After, the two women lay tangled for a minute, the smell of pussy juice heavy in the air. Fuckpuppy worked up the courage to ask a question. “O Great…”

“Again, call me Slutqueen. We know each other pretty well now.”

“Slutqueen. Why should women be taught the sapphic arts? How can it be serving men when no man is involved?”

“Ah, I see you’re quick,” the young blonde replied, as she casually ran a finger over the slightly older woman’s nipple, causing it to harden. “Couple things. One, men love this shit. You gotta understand, men are more visual than we are. Guys can get hard just from looking, y’know? So this lets them look, but there’s no other guy. It’s like twice the fun with no jealousy. Two, it makes threesomes so much better, trust me, if the girls have a little experience. Three, it’s the best way for girls to make sure that they’re all horny, all the time, ready to fuck men, right? Edging is one thing, but it doesn’t compare to another hand or tongue. You have no idea how worked up I am right now. It’s every woman’s responsibility to keep other women as horny as possible all the time. The 34th Commandment, remember, is to stay as fuckable as possible at all times. And who’s going to help you with that? Not men, I’ll tell ya that for free.”

“Beautiful,” whispered Fuckpuppy. “My most… Slutqueen, may I say this advice comes from you, in my writing? All women would heed your words.”

“I mean, yes. Duh. Now, we have more work to do.” Slutqueen reached over the side of the bed into an incongruously modern backpack, soon producing a large, purple strap-on. “Let’s start with the basics. Get on your hands and knees.”

To Be Continued...

Historical Notes: Though there have been a few changes to the timeline by this point, everyone Slutqueen visits is based on a real historical figure.

The 1215 scenes are of course about the signing of the Magna Carta. Isabella of -Angouleme was King John’s young and famously beautiful second wife, who he was infatuated with to the point that his nobles started complaining about him spending all day in bed with her.

Zur’ah is one of the names of an actual Himyarite King from the Pre-Islamic period, who we now know about because he was infamous for persecuting Christians.

Catherine de Pizan is probably the best known female writer of Medieval times, including several books that were meant as advice for young noblewomen.