Seven Years Later - Angelica GodBitch Answers Questions

Society reformed around the GodBitch sisters, who were the new ruling class of Earth. They owned everything, they owned everyone. There were no celebrities anymore, there was only the GodBitch family. There were no countries anymore, there was only the Godbitch family. There were no religions anymore, there was only the GodBitch family.

Mortals served them, mostly by staying in line and continuing to live as they had before. Angelica GodBitch, the Queen of Earth, had been elected by her sisters to oversee mortal affairs and be their hall monitor. They chose her for this because she was a sociopathic control freak with a well of sadism that frightened even some of her sisters. Her job was to just keep the mortals in line so that she and her sisters could enjoy the fruits of civilization. Mortals were now livestock whose purpose was to create night clubs, pornography, etc.

She replaced all the governments above the county level with herself, answering all questions directly and immediately. The answer was usually something like "Go fuck yourself, figure it out" or "just let me know when that happens" or "I don't care, you were all going to die anyhow." Just on that basis, people died in their millions in the first few years. They would adapt to her, not the other way around, and she was willing to let as many mortals perish as she needed to make that point. It was the least of her cruelties.

She had once **** the entire surviving human population at once, creating billions of copies of herself to do the job, just to prove a point to one mortal about what she was and wasn't allowed to do. Then she made that mortal the Last Celebrity and now that person's soul burns in a hell of their final five minutes played on repeat, forever. Don't Test Her became a meme, a prayer, an apology, the anthem of the new age.

Today Angelica was in Times Square, holding court. She sat upon a towering throne of boobs of dildos, and her skimpy clothes were so bright white it was nearly uncomfortable to look at her. Yet, even if she wasn't in the habit of forcing mortals who spoke to her into the correct contortion of respect, they would have had trouble looking away from her, such was her beauty. Her golden hair was pinned up behind her head, and her smile melted the fear from anyone she directly looked at--she preferred her prey be calm, at least some of the time.

Bent into sort of a zig-zag shape with his head cranked back and a blissful smile on his face, a mortal who had been brave enough or **** enough or foolish enough to purposefully bring himself to the attention of a GodBitch and then ask her a favor now found his courage failing. His smile faded, replaced by fear as his stammering grew ever more pronounced. He couldn't get the words out. Angelica's smile faded into irritation, and she telekinetically crushed him into a wet red ball that rolled off the platform in front of her throne where petitioners stood.

The attending crowd gasped, moaned, cried out in terror. A few laughed. Some groaned in orgasm. More and more of the mortals were developing a GodBitch fetish. Even as many of them screamed in horror, they came her voluntarily. Times Square was empty of traffic for the day, but packed with people. No longer did Angelica need to coerce attendance, now she attracted a crowd just with the performance. The mortals wouldn't admit it, but they loved her; and she wouldn't admit it, but she loved them, too.

In aggregate.

She loved them in aggregate.

Individually, they were mainly repulsive, limited creatures that were not divinely perfect like she and her sisters. She spent a lot of time around them, feeling disgusted by their every flaw and shortcoming, and she enjoyed how ugly this all was; it made her feel even more beautiful, more perfect. She needed their dullness, their stupidity, their lack of purpose and clarity--how else could her perfection be visible? Imperfection, the pointless, stupid, infuriating imperfections that only mortals could provide, made her own wholeness meaningful. She loved them for that, she really did.

So to express the love she could never give voice to, Angelica held these court sessions where anyone could come up and ask her a favor, and she would probably grant it. Or she'd maybe kill you. Or something in between. It was not a popular affair at first, and she'd needed to mind control thousands of mortals, **** them into attendance, and then release their minds enough to explain she'd let them all starve to **** unless at least one hundred of them asked her a favor.

The first mortal brave enough to take a risk on behalf of the group was a trans woman who stepped forward and asked to become a GodBitch sister. Angelica smiled at the audacity, and had granted it--that lucky woman became immortal and omnipotent and beloved beyond her wildest imagination. The second mortal had also asked to be a GodBitch, and Angelica had laughed and killed him on the spot. Only women could be GodBitches, and every woman who asked had to have a more impressive credential than the last who had been granted ascension. Only one other mortal made the cut that day, or any since.

Word spread and eventually she started running into mortals who had been dying to get a chance to ask her a question. Some asked for immortality, or even just a cure for their diseases. Others asked for great wealth, and they always died in a really funny and ironic way about a year later, and it was really really obvious what she was doing, and some dumbasses kept asking to be billionaires anyhow. Some favors she reliably granted; her biases were obvious, and she indulged them frequently. (So many trans women asked for a transition and magic powers that she just started giving that away for free to sideline the hassle. All the trannies were evil witches with amazing powers now, and they had permission from Angelica to do whatever they wanted to whomever they wanted, so certain problems got sorted out real fast even without Angelica intervening.)

Other times, however, she was not so generous. Other times, she was murderously cruel. She typically heard a thousand requests before declaring the session closed, and in that thousand she would kill probably a few dozen, and grievously harm dozens more. Depending on how long it had been since she last nutted, she might **** a mortal even after granting her a favor, and would do that right there in front of the gathered crowds.

Those thus "blessed" typically became subjects of intense envy by some of her more enthusiastic fans. Because of all the famines she had fixed, all the dead puppies she had brought back, all the murderers and rapists she had punished, Angelica was quite popular. And if she was also widely feared because of the famines she had caused, the puppies she had killed, the rapes and murders she had done, that also pleased her. Many of the mortals were coming to love her precisely because they feared her; feared her and correctly understood her power to be unassailable.

The mortals were already bending themselves to her will, just seven years in. These favor sessions, designed for direct prolonged contact between Angelica and the mortals as a mass, were some of the most rewarding experiences of her life, and had produced more favorable social distortions in a shorter time than anything else she'd tried.

And of course, she was leveraging their own technology against them to make it have an even greater effect. Her petition answering sessions were live broadcasted events watched by billions all over the world. Her clergy was required to attend by video conference every single one of these sessions, each of which was transcribed and archived and puzzled over by theologians she had recruited to build a religion around her and her sisters. A global theocracy where God is a capricious tyrant who nonetheless answered prayers held the possibility of being a stable form of government that she could use to gradually take over the functions she was performing directly. In a few thousand years, she wouldn't even need to do the job at all, the mortals would oppress themselves.

Psychically, she scanned the Internet and saw a few hundred million people were already playing around with the footage of the tongue-tied soccer ball rolling off the platform leaving a trail of blood, using it to create memes. Others were digging into the dead mortal's identity, and she leapt ahead of them to see they were about to uncover a sordid family history of regrettable decisions and emotional breakdowns. His ex-wife was pretty hot, and Angelica marked her with a psychic tag that would make her attractive to further GodBitch attention. Beautiful mortals frequently suffered for it; Angelica made sure of that.

She nodded to the guards, who were ceremonial at best, and the next petitioner approached...