Brandi had built a lot of homes for her Master through her years of servitude. She had been her Master's personal maid (when she wasn't being fucked and degraded for his pleasure) in his original home, just after he had claimed her. She had renovated a small mansion for his pleasure, filling it with sluts for his amusement. She had built him a downtown home in the top floors of a high rise in the city, a mountain resort escape, a lakehouse, and a beach house—each one filled with the hottest whores she could find, willing and begging to do any depraved thing for Master's sexual pleasure.
This home topped them all. It was a massive, sprawling palace—nine times the size of the White House. There were sections of the house with marble floors and elegant décor. Other sections mimicked pleasant, suburban houses. In the basement was a seedy strip club room. There were bars, theaters, a bowling alley, dozens of dining rooms, hundreds of bedrooms, and even an observatory with a scientific-grade telescope pointed towards the stars. The home was wrapped around an immense courtyard, with a massive pool, sand volleyball court, and spacious deck.
On top of the fabulous wealth, throughout the whole home was the greatest collection of fucktoys the world had ever seen. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, white girls, Asian girls, black girls, Hispanic girls, girls with big tits, girls with tight asses, girls with big asses, tall girls, short girls, goth girls, preppy girls... the collection was designed so that a man could list out a set of specifications ("a tall blonde with big tits") and within minutes he would have a selection of at least twenty whores to choose from. Master had left strict instructions to never allow less than 1,100 sluts to be present on the premise. The number was very intentional—he could fuck three different sluts every day for a year and still not have gone through them all—even on a leap year.
On top of the normal, everyday whores that littered the palace in various forms of lingerie, there were dozens of special rooms—and in them, hundreds of dedicated whores—for Master's various kinks. His favorites were the superhero and supervillain rooms, of course, which normally involved him "breaking the will" of skimpy-dressed comic characters. There was a romantic, posh apartment occupied by Valerie, a high-class girl for when Master was in a particular mood. There were several rooms dedicated to various bondage fantasies, including one that was always stocked with three different naked sluts, their wrists and necks locked into stocks as they knelt on the ground. At any given moment—even in the middle of the night—if Master wanted to throatfuck a bitch, he could simply go there and find three willing whores already shackled. The girls went on rotations, each spending hours hoping and wishing that Master would come and abuse their throats.
Master's friends had moved into the home as well. If they were married and wanted to stay that way, their wives were adjusted to approve of their husbands fucking whatever bitch they wanted. Most of Master's friends were single and having a great time.
Master, of course, was having a phenomenal time as well. He was surrounded by his friends, worshipped by gorgeous women, living amongst extravagant wealth, and free to have whatever his heart desired. And at the center of it all was Brandi. She was his oldest slave. She was his favorite fucktoy. He had named her his "Queen of Whores". Her mouth was his daily alarm clock. She managed his affairs and sought his happiness at every turn. Legally, she was his wife. In practice, she desired nothing more than to serve him and thought that each and every girl in the world ought to beg and plead to be fucked by her Master. That was why today was such a big deal.
Master's life had been built by a device that he had constructed a few years ago. It essentially produced audio waves that put the listener in a sort of "programming mode". Whatever they were told while in that mode was gospel truth written into their brains. It has transformed Brandi—along with thousands of other girls—from hot but distant bitches into Master's personal fucktoys. For a while, Master stayed under the radar, but at their wedding last year, as Master was receiving blowjobs from his collection of whores and playing with Brandi's tits, the two of them had put together a plan—one that culminated tonight.
For the last several months, Master's audio signal and brief instructions had been worked into several ads, television shows, and songs. All of them instructed the listeners to be ready for a special message tonight.
The timing was intentional—it was Master's birthday.
Master spent the majority of the day with his friends and whores. It was a beautiful summer day, so they spent it in the pool, eating burgers, and watching the sluts play volleyball. At one point, five different massive cakes were rolled out on large carts. Out of each popped a stripper, covered in frosting and ready to fuck.
After dinner, Master and his friends sat down to a game of poker, while whores knelt below the table and sucked vigorously.
Master won big and had fun, but Brandi could tell he was nervous. His dick was hard and warm in her mouth, of course, but his knee continuously bounced and he didn't thrust into the back of her throat like he normally liked to. When he came, she sucked the cum down her throat eagerly, grateful as always for Master's gift, and then got him a beer. He thanked her, smacked her ass, and went back to the game.
As 7:00 approached, the men moved to one of the theaters, each bringing along some of their favorite whores to play with. Small devices were passed out throughout the room. They were like tiny earbuds and glowed blue when turned on and inserted into the ears. These would prevent the wearers from being influenced by the audio signal. Even the girls were given them, but that was more so they wouldn't stop fucking while the message played. All of them had been indoctrinated already.
Master had been playing with a redhead's tits while she stroked his dick, but when the news came on he shoved her away and beckoned Brandi close.
"Jerk me off with your tits," Master ordered. "I want you here with me for this."
"Yes, my King," Brandi said, kneeling. She wrapped her significant tits around his dick and began to bounce. When she had first done this, odd muscles in her legs had hurt for days. Now, those muscles were strong with practice. She knew just how tightly to wrap around him, just how quickly to bounce, and just how to position her head to look sexiest for him.
"Master," Brandi said softly. "May I tell you something?" It was rare for her to impose her own will. By her own programming, she only thought of that which benefited her Master.
"Of course," Master said.
"You deserve this," Brandi said earnestly. "You are the one who claimed everything you wanted. You are the one who built the device, cracked the code, and had the balls to do something about it. This wasn't luck. You are the most successful conqueror in the world, and you did it without bloodshed. You are the apex predator on Earth, and I am so honored to be the first in your harem." She glanced down at the dick riding between her tits and smiled. "I may do this because you claimed me, but everything I do I do with genuine joy. I love being your fucktoy. All these bitches do. And you deserve everything."
Master smiled down at her. Without warning, he slapped her hard across the face. Brandi never broke rhythm in her bouncing. Nor did she say anything.
"Aren't you going to ask me why I did that?" Master asked softly.
"No Master," Brandi said. "I'm your property to do with what you like. You don't need a reason to slap me."
"That's why I did it," Master said with a smile. "I wanted to."
"Then I'm so glad I could be of service to you," Brandi grinned genuinely.
"And now," the newscaster on the TV said, "a very important message."
The audio signal went out to millions of people across the world. For just a moment, the world stood still.
It was Brandi on the screen, dressed in skimpy lingerie. "You will not remember this message after it is done. If you are driving, pull over. If you are doing something, put it on pause. This is the most important news you will ever heard. The truth I tell you will be permanently fastened in your minds. You will not think of it as new information, but rather the truth that you have always known."
A picture of Master appeared on the screen. "This is your Master, your King, your ruler." She told the world his name, speaking with reverence and awe. The name had not crossed her lips for years. She had always simply called him, "Master." Now the world would too.
"Most of you will never meet him, but your allegiance to him is unwavering. You will never knowingly harm him. You will never try to overthrow this King. You will always treat him with respect. And even if you never see him, his word is absolute law and you will follow it.
"Men, you fantasize what it would be like to be him. You recognize that anything he wants is his by right and you will hold no harsh feelings against him for claiming what is already his... no matter what it is.
"Women, you fantasize about being fucked by him. Not just tender love-making, but brutal, degrading, humiliating, depraved sex. At his slightest whim, your inhibitions are gone and you will give him anything he wants. Your bodies, your minds, and your lives are his to do with whatever he wishes. You will crave information about what he desires sexually, so that in the event that he decides to honor you with his dick, you know how best to serve it.
"You live in his world. And you are very thankful that he allows you to. His word is final in everything: politics, entertainment, economics... anything."
Brandi smiled into the camera, into the homes of countless people listening in total obedience. "He is a good king. And he deserves your total devotion.
"You may return to your lives."
The message ended. The news returned to normal. Master sat back, smiling to himself as Brandi rode her tits up and down on his dick. It was very hard.
"Run this message again on regular intervals," Master said. "Anyone who missed it the first time should see it soon."
"Yes Master," Brandi said.
He smiled again, sitting back and relaxing as Brandi served him. After a moment, he looked down at her again and said, "You did well."
"Thank you Master," Brandi gushed. "Happy birthday, My King. You are now Master of the World."
"I suppose I am," Master smiled. He stood, dislodging his dick from between Brandi's tits. "Open wide." Brandi obeyed, opening her mouth wide. Master thrust hard into her throat. He held her head in place as he roughly fucked it. Brandi did her best to sit very still and open very wide. Her hands dropped down to her side in a position of pure submission.
He turned to his friends, who were watching and cheering, all the while girls knelt before them. Brandi felt the purest joy in her heart—even as she did her best to time her breaths to hit the short gaps when Master's dick pulled back. She had always said that Master deserved every bitch in the world. Now, they were all his. He was hard, he was rough, and Brandi knew that meant he was having a great time.
When he came it was with force, but Brandi was ready. She swallowed what she could, even as he pulled out and ordered her to finish him on her chest. She obeyed, jerking the last bit of cum onto her tits. She knew she looked great. It was all for him.
"I am now Master of the World," Master grinned. Brandi took his cock in her mouth again, sucking gently to pull the last bit of cum out. "This is going to be a lot of fun."
Master's first public appearance was on a talk show with a young blonde reporter. The reporter was visibly bothered, breathing deep and continuously unbuttoning her shirt lower and lower to reveal more cleavage. She started with a few softball questions about how Master spent his time, but quickly derailed.
"What's your favorite position to fuck someone in?" the reporter asked, her blouse fully unbuttoned to reveal a red lace bra. Her eyes spent a lot of time on Master's crotch.
"Can she say that?" someone off camera said. Master apparently heard it and said, "When it comes to me, censors don't apply." That was the end of the question about what was allowed to be said or done on TV with Master.
Master turned back to the reporter and said, "I love a good blowjob," Master said. "I love throatfucking a whore and when I pull out, she begs for more and tells me how much of a worthless little fucktoy she is." He smiled, knowing that women around the world were swooning as they imagined themselves kneeling before him. "I love having three girls around me. Two of them kneel and suck on my dick and balls. The third should have awesome tits and be good at kissing, because I want to feel her up as the whores down below do their work. After I've had my fun, I want the big-titted bitch to jerk me off onto the two whores below—their faces and tits. Then the two girls should lick the cum off each other while the big-titted one finishes sucking me off." Master smiled and nodded. "I think that's my favorite, but I'm always trying new things. Does that answer your question?"
"Oh my gaaahhhhhd yessss," the reporter said, obviously rubbing her pussy and trying to catch her breath. "Master, I think that's so... amazing. I... I would do anything to be any one of those whores for your pleasure."
She stumbled for a minute, apparently trying to remember her next question. Professionalism was far out of the window.
"Well how about this?" Master said. "I want you to have a story and be able to tell the world about me accurately. So I have an idea."
The reporter was very agreeable as Master commanded her to strip and bend over her stool. Master fucked her pussy from behind, pulling her hair and smacking her ass. "Ohhh gaaahhhhhd," she screamed, her pleasure visible on every television in the nation. At the same moment, housewives, college girls, divorced women, corporate women, and everyone else was rubbing their pussies, wishing to be as lucky as the blonde reporter on the screen.
"I like when you degrade yourself," Master called down to her.
"I'm such a dumb little whore," the reporter immediately chanted to the world. "I'm good for nothing but fucking and sucking and fucking again. I'm a toy for your pleasure, nothing else. Fuck my worthless little pussy." She went on for a while. At Master's command, she knelt and jerked him off onto her chest, never stopping the slew of filth coming from her lips.
When finished, Master said, "Well I think that's all the time I have today. I hope that gives you a little insight into my life."
"Thank you... for joining us... Master," the report said, her bare chest heaving still.
The reporter was on every possible interview through the next week, telling all about her experience. With each telling, awe over Master's dick increased through the world.
As an unexpected side effect of Master's instant rise to power, "Master Merchandise" was everywhere overnight. There was the routine celebrity stuff, like his face on t-shirts or posters of him. There was also the very odd stuff that they should have thought about, but didn't. Masks of Master's face were produced and sold at alarming rates. It turned out that millions of women were asking their husbands to wear masks of Master's face while they fucked, so they could pretend to be one of his whores. The men didn't mind, of course, as it was Master's right to take their women's fantasies for his own. In fact, there was a nice bonus for them, as the women often replicated the degrading sex they knew Master liked with their fantasy partners.
Sales of dildos and vibrators broke records and the video of Master fucking the blonde reporter became the most watched video of the year. The two trends were often linked by analysts.
Master became the single most common topic of "my hero" essays and speeches. Fan fiction of Master was everywhere, usually with his bitch of choice an obvious stand-in for the horny writer.
Master enjoyed the attention, but rarely stepped out in public. He seemed to enjoy the mystique that his title commanded. In fact, he often donned a crown—the one that Brandi had given his for his birthday a few years ago—and lounged about the house.
One morning, Master called a local television network and told them to send a crew over. Brandi heard the news talk about "a special message from Master" before the crew even arrived. Within twenty minutes, a helicopter landed near the front door of Master's palace, the crew within hurrying forward. They had obviously sent the hottest anchors, but Master wasn't in the mood to fuck a reporter this time. He had given Brandi special instructions.
The reporters were gathered in one of the large atriums in the palace. Master emerged from a large ornate door, carrying a leash. The end of the leash was attached to a thick gold collar around Brandi's neck. She wore platform heels, the collar, her glimmering tiara (given to her when Master had dubbed her his Queen of Whores) and nothing else. Master pulled his bitch along as he approached the reporters.
Before addressing them, he turned to Brandi and ordered, "Down, bitch."
"Yes Master," Brandi said, dropping to her knees in front of Master. She undid his pants and began sucking vigorously.
Master turned to the reports, his whore like a makeshift podium in front of him as he spoke.
"This is an official edict from your King," Master said to the cameras. "If you have committed murder, you are to turn yourself in to your local authorities. Give a full confession, show them where the bodies are hidden if possible, and plead guilty. No one else will kill anyone else out there. We're done with senseless violence.
"There will be more edicts like this, but let's start with the really big shit. Once the system has worked through all of the murders, we'll look at the next group of people."
Master smiled, looking at the reverence the reporters were pouring on him. Several of the hot anchors were stealing envious glances down at Brandi as she made happy gulping noises on his dick.
"Also, my people will begin taking applications for my own harem," Master said. "We'll share an email address soon, where you can submit photos and videos of yourself. Due to my own personal preferences, only submit applications if you are between eighteen and twenty-four, have c-cups or bigger, and have at least twenty referrals from men actually claiming you are hot. Men, this is in service to me, so only give a referral if you genuinely believe the girl to be stunning. My people will filter through, bring in the hottest of you, and you might get a chance to be fucked by me." He shrugged. "If you match the mood I'm feeling."
Master grabbed a handful of Brandi's hair and began to thrust his hips forward, hitting the back of her throat. She opened wide, receiving as much as she could. She was well practiced.
As Master went to work on her throat, he gave a few more edicts about various things. Billionaires were instructed to give half of their wealth to aid the poor. Guacamole would no longer cost extra to add to Mexican food. A fantasy show that had 7 great seasons and ended with a terrible final season would redo the last season and "do it right this time". People would no longer correct people when they say "Frankenstein" instead of "Frankenstein's Monster"—they would just trust that they knew what the other person was talking about.
After a few minutes, Master stopped talking to the cameras and turned his attention to Brandi. He pulled her head off his dick and ordered, "Jerk me off onto your face and tits."