Slutqueen's Bogus Journey

Author's Note: If you're enjoying this story, I think there's a decent chance you'll like my entry in the CHYOA 10th Anniversary Story Contest, "Step by Step, or How Lacy Accidentally Broke the World." I posted it over last weekend and it's now finished, so check it out if you're interested, and maybe check out some of the other entries from some other great writers on this site while you're there: https://chyoa.com/chapter/Step-by-Step%2C-or-How-Lacy-Accidentally-Broke-the-World.1551342

Slutqeen had seen even her more religious friends question whether there was a literal master. No more of that. She had to be enough places that nobody would have any question that the Master was a real deity, or that she was really his daughter.

*****

St. Louis, United States - 1877 A.D.

A man of about thirty years, strikingly handsome with dark hair, stood on a platform in front of a crowd in the dusty streets of Downtown St. Louis. Next to him had been set up a small, strange machine, a smallish silver foil cylinder rotated by a much larger, more complex mechanism.

“Ladies and gentlemen of this fine city!” he called over the noise of the crowd, which quieted very slightly. “I have brought with me today what I believe is the finest of the many inventions to date to the name of Thomas Edison. I call this my 'phonograph.' Its mechanism allows for sound, whether a voice or music, to be recorded onto this cylinder by means of a patented system, and then replayed for all of you. The sounds you are about to hear were recorded at my laboratory in New Jersey, several days ago, but you will now hear them as if they were being made before you now!”

He activated the mechanism, and to the gasps of the crowd, the blaring sound of a coronet could then be heard there in the street, despite the fact that no coronet could be seen anywhere. This was quickly followed by another sound, that of a female voice.

“Yeah, that’s it, fuck my slutty ass, Master,” the voice rang out. “Fuck it so hard I can’t shit right for weeks. Fuuuuck! Fuck me, harder!” This was followed by several seconds of distinct slapping sounds. “Oh fuck, keep fucking me, Master, fuck this cunt’s worthless ass. Fuck me like the worthless cunt I am, Master. Fuck I’m gonna come. Please may I come, Master?”

“Go ahead,” choked a mail voice, possibly Edison’s.

“Thank you, Master. Oh shit oh shit I’m cummmmminnng…” After a few moments silence, the voice, in a much more conversational tone, said, “Make sure to practice your anal, cunts. Slutqueen out.”

The crowd erupted in applause at hearing the first recording of the human voice.

*****

Pittsburgh, USA - 1964 A.D.

Several excited, naked girls gathered in a well-appointed mid-century living room, draping over each other on the single couch, in front of a black and white TV screen.

“Oh Master, it’s almost time!” one of them giggled.

“OK,” Ed Sullivan said on the TV, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have an amazing act for you tonight, they recently arrived on this continent for the first time and they’re already causing a sensation…” He became nearly inaudible over the screams from the girls in the audience, but the hose held up a hand. “Wait, wait, wait. Please. Now, before the boys play for you, we have a surprise. Here from… well, I don’t know, but she’s here. Ladies and gentlemen, without any further ado, the Beatles, with their special guest, the Promised Whore!”

As screaming began again, the curtains opened to show the band at their instruments. In front of Lennon, Slutqueen was bent over, her big, perky tits on full display, getting fucked rhythmically from behind.

“Oh wow, it’s her!” one of the girls exclaimed.

“I’ve never seen her before, not on TV…” another breathed.

“She’s so fucking hot,” a third said, biting her lip, one hand drifting to her crotch. The others all nodded and started to do the same.

“I know you want to hear these guys!” Slutqueen said into a specially set-up microphone on the screen. “But I have a message for you. I just want you to remember how you feel right now. Remember how these hot, cool, talented men make you feel, how much you want their cocks inside you. How much you need them to fuck your wet, needy cunts.”

The girls on the couch were now all frantically jilling off, a few groaning with need.

“Hold on to that feeling. Keep it in your heart and your cunt, always. And remember that all men are the Master on Earth, so that when you feel that need for cock, deep down, remember, that is everything. That is all you are, a sopping wet pussy that needs to get fucked so, so badly.”

One, then two of the girls started shaking slightly, breathing hard. Then the slapping noises abruptly stopped and John groaned on the TV. Slutqueen gave the camera a lopsided grin and said, “Sorry girls, he just came in me.”

She pulled off of John’s dick, then stood up straight and picked up a tambourine from atop a nearby stool. As soon as John pulled up its pants, the band launched into its hit “I Wanna Fuck Your Cunt.” Slutqueen gleefully played along on the tambourine. On the black and white TV, the viewers might just be able to make out the jizz leaking down her inner thigh.

In the living room in Pittsburgh, one of the girls breathlessly said, “Fuck, did you see his cock?” She looked around. “Why are there no boys here? I need to get fucked. Whorecunt, isn’t your brother around here somewhere.”

“He’s… he’s in the basement,” Whorecunt got out as she continued to frantically rub herself to the TV. “Probably reading his comics… he’s such a dweeb.”

“Well, get him up here! We need his cock and we need him to give us permission to come.”

“But…the Beatles…”

“I _need _it, Whorecunt, fuck!

*****

Most of all, Slutqueen was adamant that there would be no misunderstandings of scripture this time. She would make sure of it.

*****

Aachen, Frankish Kingdom - 792 A.D.

It was in the twelfth year of my service to Charlemagne, King of the Franks and the Lombards, that I was first visited by the Promised Whore in my bedchamber. She was golden of hair, large of tit, and tight of pussy. I knew in my heart who She was from the first moment I beheld Her. But She required no faith from me, instead telling me that, the next day, I would receive word of a terrible tragedy narrowly averted at Lindisfarne in my homeland. Indeed this came to pass, as the leader of a band of Northern raiders called off an attack and announced that he and his clan would convert to the True Path, for reasons the residents of the town knew not. I knew then that She was, indeed, the Promised Whore, and that all She told me was the Word of the Master.

She spake unto me and said, “Alcuin of York, Master, this cunt has heard you’re the most learned man of your age. Please, you must write down exactly what I say, if it pleases you, Master, and then you have to tell your King, Charlemagne, and he has to tell all of his subjects. Do you understand, Master?”

I could only nod to tell Her my assent. The Promised Whore then asked me if I wished to fuck her while we spoke, and I did. She sat on my cock, taking its full length into Her, Her divine Tits inches from my mouth, and She then drove me to raptures beyond description, all the while blessing me with the Word of the Master.

“The Master gave you 59 Commandments, and those are good, but it seems like we need to make some clarifications here, right? First off, I notice that some men, like your King, claim many women. This leaves none for others. Your King is great, of course, so great I’ll bet he can spare some pussy, OK? So here’s the thing. No more ‘claiming,’ right? Women, we were put on this Earth to serve men. All men. That’s Commandment Sixty, OK? Get married, settle down, pop out some kids, all great, as long as you’re available for any guy that wants to fuck you while you're doing it.”

“Next thing, there are lots of people who may be attracted to their own gender. I know you think that’s straying from the True Path. It’s not, OK? You just have to think it through. If girls want to be with other girls, that’s just hot, right? Sure, they still have to service men, but you can’t **** somebody to get off on something, that’s not how it works. I know about getting off, Master, believe me.”

I believed all She said.

“And if men want to be with other men, that’s good, too. More pussy for the rest of the men, right? I could get more into all the flavors of queer, but I don’t think you’re ready yet. The point is, this is all about being the maximum amount of happy, right, for everyone, men and women? The True Path? You just gotta think it through. You’re a good thinker, right Master? Or am I wrong about Alcuin of York? OK, that’s 61, I had a list…”

*****

And finally, Slutqueen had some ideas of her own that would never have occurred to The Professor in a million years. But at this point, he kind of just thought he should let her cook.

*****

Houston, USA - 2004 A.D.

An empty stage waited in the center of a football field, surrounded by a packed stadium. Then, in front of all 80,000 or so, and the billions watching on TV, Slutqueen blipped into existence. One second she wasn’t there, the next she was. Once her face showed up on the jumbotron, the crowd cheered as one.

Slutqueen grabbed the waiting microphone and gestured for the stadium to quiet the deafening noise. Her movement made her tits jiggle on international TV.

“Hey everyone, real quick,” she said into the microphone, when the deafening noise retreated to a more reasonable level. “I know you’re busy with the Super Bowl, and we’ll get to the real Halftime Show in a sec, but I’ve got a real quick one for you. By this point, you guys have got pretty good gender reasssignment surgery, right? If a guy wants to be a girl or a girl wants to be a guy, you have the technology. Just throwing this out there, we all know that the purpose of cunts like me is to serve men...”

This brought a particularly loud cheer.

“But we all also know that not all men are the same, right guys? Some guys were meant to be Masters from the day they were born, but others need more…more help. My cunts out there know what I’m talking about. So listen, if you’re a guy, born to be a Master, and you’re just not feeling it, maybe consider being a woman instead? Trust me, it's so freeing to just be a hot, dripping cunt, all the time, living for cocks. Or be a slutty, sexy dickgirl. Take the cocks of real Masters up your ass while your girlcock flops around. If that thought makes you hard right now, come join us. Or don't, whatever makes you happy. All I'm saying is the more cunts we have for each real Master, the better!"

She raised both arms and said. “And now, on with the show!” The crowd cheered again. She took a step back and playfully shook her melons at the largest television audience in American history. “Woooo!”

Historical Notes: Thomas Edison's first demonstration of the Phonograph was in St. Louis in 1877, but the coronet playing was followed by Edison reciting "Mary Had a Little Lamb" rather than anal sex. If you google "first sound recording" today you will likely find info about a French inventor in the 1850s, but his system only made a visual record of the sound, there was no way to play it back until scientists were able to decode it and turn it back into sound in the last ten years.

_In the Beatles' actual first American TV appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show, the caption under John Lennon famously read "Sorry girls, he's married."_

Alcuin of York was a famous scholar in the court of Charlemagne who was indeed considered the most learned man of his age. He was distraught during his time in Court to receive word of a Viking attack on a monastery at Lindisfarne, considered one of the bloodiest of the Middle Ages.

I could not resist having Slutqueen's appearance at the Super Bowl be the same one that, in our reality, was the site of Janet Jackson's famous boob flash.