How I Became Emperor Ch. 06: Monday

Eventually, having gained enough substance to my hard-on again I pulled out of Keisha's mouth, and gently moving Cindy out of the way, knelt between Keisha's splayed legs. Without preamble I pushed in, and proceeded to fuck her roughly, my hands holding her hips up to give me easy access.

Keisha's hands, still bound above her head as mine had been, made her breasts heave with every thrust. Cindy giggled at this, but unwilling to be left out of the fray, lay down beside Keisha, and used her hand to idly prod and pull at Keisha's boobs. As though oblivious to my rigorous fucking of our black beauty, Cindy put a hand behind Keisha's head, tangling the fingers in the bright red hair. She used this grip to turn Keisha's head towards her, and without regard to Keisha's gasping breath proceeded to kiss her deeply. Breaking the kiss, Cindy said "You are our fuck-toy, understand? Our pleasure is your highest command. We will use you whenever we want, however we want, and you will like it. Your nymphomania will cause you to gush for us whenever we want, and even when your brain is telling you that you can't take any more, your master and mistress," Cindy savored those words, emphasizing them, "will still pull from your body orgasms and pleasures. You will submit to all this willingly, do you understand?"

Keisha was too far gone to respond verbally so only nodded, but Cindy took it as acknowledgement anyway. She glanced back at me and asked, "How close are you?"

"Quite," I replied under belaboured breath, "another few strokes and..."

"Then pull out now." Cindy requested, "I want to be the one to make you cum. Anyway, the toy has had two orgasms from this round already, that should be enough."

I couldn't deny the request of course. I pulled out, and let Keisha's spent body fall back to the bed. Cindy came back to me, using her hand to gauge my situation. "Hmm," she murmured, "we'd better let this settle slightly. We wouldn't want you spurting without giving me an orgasm first, would we?"

Without waiting for my answer she continued, "Why don't you sit back and watch Keisha get me ready for you?"

Cindy returned to Keisha and straddled her head, looking towards me at the foot of the bed. "Get me ready for my man, fuck-toy." Cindy lowered herself so that Keisha could lick at Cindy's slit. Though it started slowly, with Keisha summoning some energy from somewhere to comply with Cindy's demand, after a scant few minutes Cindy was grinding herself forcefully onto Keisha's face, fucking it as much as I had been before. I couldn't help but take my cock in hand and begin absentmindedly rubbing it.

As Cindy was evidently nearing orgasm she called me over to her with almost frantic hand-gestures. I obeyed, straddling Keisha as well in order to face Cindy. She lifted herself off Keisha, and with urgency wrapped herself around my kneeling form, and dropped herself onto my pole.

She came immediately, her orgasm ripping through her and causing her to shake in my arms. I held her tightly as she rode out the orgasm. Then, as she settled I began to buck my hips, giving us friction. My balls dragged along Keisha's breasts during our lovemaking, the warm mammaries slick with what I presumed to be sweat and Cindy's cum.

For her second orgasm, Cindy lifted off me, and let Keisha lick up the cum directly from the source. She didn't neglect me either, taking my cock and giving me a handjob that regularly also rubbed up against Keisha's massive boobs. It didn't take long, and Cindy was still finishing the last waves of her own orgasm before I spurted white cream. It drew lines across Keisha's chin, and Cindy's abdomen both. A beautiful way to end the morning.

We collapsed onto the bed, all three in a tangled heap of sweaty limbs and large smiles. Keisha freed herself of the bonds, proving that she could have done so at any moment she had wished it.

A couple moments later an insistent knock at my door roused us all from bed.

When I opened the door, hair matted and a towel hastily wrapped around myself, I saw Abby, and immediately knew I had to open the door wide enough for her to survey the scene. No secrets, so I would not hide what I had done. Hardly an eyebrow flickered on Abby's face though. "Are you mad?" She asked, of me angrily, "you have a very important speech to make in 5 hours, you don't have time to... fornicate." She filled the word with scorn, that I knew she didn't mean. She was nervous, and unsure of herself or her planning, and that was making her snappy and terse. Knowing that, I didn't rise to the bait and before either Keisha - or more likely Cindy - could rise in anger as well, I replied: "You are right. Let me go take a shower. Keisha can dress me when I'm done, and you can prep me afterwards."

Abby grunted as a reply and stalked away. I looked back over my shoulder at the two women who had pulled up the bedspread for modesty's sake and shrugged, then headed to the shower.

The rest of the morning passed in a haze for me. I came back from the shower and Keisha took some care to array my clothes properly on my spindly frame. Then she shooed me downstairs to where Abby waited imperious, the cup of tea almost broiling from her suppressed nervousness. She bottled it up well though.

I had hardly walked through the door before she leaped from her seat and had me running through the bloody speech again. I gave it twice there, then once again in the taxi as we drove up the hill to campus a full 3 hours before this supposed kick-off event was supposed to start.

Somehow, Abby had found the fortitude to appropriate a tutoring room in the main building on campus. It was just off the quad, large, with a window looking out at the green. It was also highly coveted by professors with sizable tutoring classes and busy schedules.

Inside Irina and Matt were already shifting papers like the bureaucrats they were. My speech was printed on them, along with copious notes from Abby concerning expected attendees, placement of my 'staff' strategically throughout the quad and so forth. Alex bustled in, wires over his shoulders. It appeared he was setting up a microphone for me.

Abby took command of course, seeing with ease what still had to be done. My role was generally relegated to the back seat, watching and waiting nervously. Keisha and Cindy joined us a bit later with the even more harrowing news that the quad was filling up slowly. People were apparently milling around, and as university students are wont to do, they had brought along refreshments and entertainment. A couple of guitars were apparently already in competition with each other, a number of lively debates on a number of subjects, as well as an impromptu ultimate frisbee game. Cindy even noted that she'd spied a couple of professors not from the politics department hanging around the edges trying hard not to appear too interested or involved.

All this of course set my heart racing. With 30 minutes to my appointed debut, Abby called my whole staff together. Irina had just returned from fetching Alex and Keisha who had been guarding my small improvised podium, having deputized a number of freshmen to hold the ground. She came with the news that Roger, the "quasi-fascist" main opponent I supposedly had, was lurking in the center of the quad being loudly disdainful of me, my grand speech, and how I would make an utter fool of myself. A strategy that would prove to backfire horribly as it lowered expectations for me to meet, and helped me out in the polls, while harming him.

In any case, the whole thing was apparently getting close to a boiling point, something which I still wonder to this day whether Abby managed to organize somehow for perfect timing. With 15 minutes left until my public mortification was to begin, Abby held a pep-talk for my troops that I have little recollection of. I think I was too nervous to pay any attention. Then she dispatched them all to their respective stations. She and I remained alone in the room, me a nervous wreck, Abby a determined force of nature, temporarily contemplative.

It must have been five minutes before she sinuously weaved her way to me. "Stand up, let me have a final look." She demanded.

I complied, still fidgeting.

"No, it won't do." Abby declared coming right up to me.

"What won't do?" I asked, frantic. She didn't reply, instead she knelt, business-like, and pulled down the zipper to my pants, and fished for my cock. I was too stunned to react, and before I knew it she had my flaccid penis wrapped between her lips.

I am not particularly the biggest fan of oral sex. Don't get me wrong, it gets me off, and the amount of women whom I've either pleasured with my tongue or who have taken to sucking on my third leg are innumerable. However, it is never much more than foreplay to the main attraction - at least as far as I am concerned.

Cindy in particular holds great skill in blowjobs - as I have already indicated and as will become even more apparent in upcoming pages. Yet there is an important quality to the oral sex which I have yet to discuss in any great detail: giving. Through oral sex, one person can only provide stimulation to another. A sixty-nine, no matter the mutuality of the pleasuring, yet still remains that one individual provides sexual pleasure to the other, without that same act in any way providing a return to the giver. In this fashion it is similar to the already discussed tit-fuck. Even should I receive a blowjob as I am in the act of cunnilingus, I am still in receipt of one sexual pleasure that has nothing to do with the sexual pleasure I am providing in return. Whatever mutuality exists does so only in the minds of the participants.

Yet in contrast to the sense of "giving" from a purely sexual point of view, we must also consider the consumptive nature of oral sex. Even as I lap at a vagina, I also receive the ability to consume the sexual essence of my partner - assuming of course that they orgasm. The recipient of the oral sex 'gives' a part of themselves, a part of their most precious commodity - the reproductive fluids of humanity - for the consumption of their partner.

Said so clinically I doubt that anyone will consider this a particularly sexual act, or even sexually toned. Yet in our subconscious, that ability to actually ingest a partner, to have that seed of them become part of the matter that constructs our own body holds a powerful symbolism to anyone who has thought about it in any detail. But while the consumptive potential of a blowjob does have great power, and at the very least since my first experience with it on that fateful evening slightly less than a week earlier to the events I now relate, I have considered carefully those sexual partners whom I have allowed to give me blowjobs, and even more so whom I have given oral pleasure to myself.

It was therefore surprising for me when Abby, having ensured that my cock could have contended with a steel spearhead for pointiness, length and hardness (though perhaps not slimness), released me well before I was anywhere near cumming.

"That'll do I think." She murmured to herself, standing up and straightening her hair. She turned and headed for the door, clearly expecting me to follow, leaving me not only confused, but desperately trying to stuff my penis back into my shorts and get my pants zipped up.

Catching up to Abby in the hallway I grabbed her arm. "What, in the name of all that is holy, were you trying to do?"

Shrugging me off easily, Abby continued toward the double doors that opened onto the quad. "Making sure you were presentable. I need you to make every girl out there desire you for more than just your head, and every guy out there look up to you for more than just your ideas. They may not consciously see the bulge in your pants, but they will definitely notice subconsciously."

I snorted. "Pretty strange way to get on everyone's good side. Make all the men jealous of me, and all the women think I'm a pig."

Abby didn't reply to that. We had reached the double doors, and peering through the milky glass pane in them we could see a large expectant mass of people outside, and hear a buzzing of many excited voices. Abby leaned in close to me, grabbed both my hands and placed them firmly on her titanic tits.

"Go out there and give them the best speech they've heard in their life. If you come back with every voice out there cheering you, then you can grab these massive knockers and fuck me into unconsciousness." She whispered to me.

Then with a firm push she shoved me through the doors and into the waiting crowd.

As I've already said, I don't really remember much about that first speech I ever gave. I do remember the layout, me standing on the steps just outside those double doors looking down on a mass of faces all turned towards me. To my left, directly at the front of the steps, a couple of teachers from the politics department listened to my speech, seated on folding chairs which Cindy had found and reserved for them. It gave the distinct impression of their approval for my candidacy without actually overstepping and outright stating their support. Cindy sat beside professor Lex, both of them attentive to me between brief glances at the other lecturers to see how they were taking the speech.

Also with pride of position at the bottom of the steps was the student media, deftly harangued by Abby and corralled by Matt to attend and report on my speech. Matt had with him a large bag from which he distributed my speech to the press after I finished giving it. It was disconcerting for me to see two film-crews, and no less than four high quality cameras trained on me, and after my first glance in their direction I did my best to ignore them - without appearing to avoid them.

The rest of the quad was milling with various students, fuller than I had ever seen it, many more than the small pitance I thought could have been rustled up for my sake. At my appearance the human mass all crowded closer around the foot of the steps to hear, but I could see that even packing themselves together, a good half of the quad was overrun with my supporters. One small knot of students near the center was given a small berth, as though none of the listeners particularly wanted to be associated with them. That was my main challenger Roger's posse, and throughout my speech they sneered, leered, and jeered - at one point even booed me until shushed vehemently by those around them.

As I gave the speech I let my eyes roam around the crowd. I had already learned the all-importance of eye-contact with my listeners well before this speech, but that was not why I did it. I was searching out the faces of my election committee, and found them tactically dispersed throughout the crowd to help applause and silences occur in the desired amounts.

All-in-all I spoke for about half an hour, giving the prepared speech in full. The crowd grew slightly larger as the half-hour went on, some stragglers joining, and some students who somehow had missed the wallpapering of the school with my face attaching themselves intrigued. When I finished, the mic still standing before me as though expecting more words, the applause was stupendous. It was a wonderful feeling, to have the approval of so many people. I did notice that Roger and his friends did not clap, and I was the recipient of a couple of venomous looks from his group, but I did not dwell on that.

After about a minute of me standing there, waving, and thanking the audience like a fool, one of the media, a young man with an afro decided I was not going to really do anything more and bounded up the steps, evidently looking to interview me. Before he got three steps up, Matt had caught his arm, and Abby had appeared in the doorway behind me calling my name faintly. I turned, saw her wave to me surreptitiously to head back, and acceded to her wishes, giving a final set of waves and smiles to the adoring crowd.

"Looks like I am going to be pounded by your cock today." Abby told me when we were safely back in the room away from prying eyes and ears. She said it with a wry smile and a twinkle in her eye.

We waited together for a brief few moments before being joined by the rest of my crew. All were relatively jubilant about the general reactions to my speech. Abby sat, then calmed them down quickly though, allowing only a brief moment to revel in the success.

Abby started us off: "We've won a battle, and set ourselves up well for the war, but there is a week ahead of us before Election Day, and so help me god, if we do not have his name on everybody's lips by the end of this week I am going to see heads roll."

Having gotten that off her chest, Abby laid out the game-plan referring back to the outlines she had provided everyone at the beginning of this experiment. The next week was carefully planned, from a couple of public appearances for me at various student groups with interest, the changing of posters, a Facebook and Twitter campaign (with the attendant creation and maintenance of profiles for me), and a media appearance. The final cap on the whole thing was to be a town hall style question and answer session on the Sunday before the election and the Monday polls.

I added only a couple of small pointers, already seeing that my social life was gone for the week. I would have a nightly evening session with Abby and the rest of the crew, firstly for them to report to Abby on the events of the day, and partly so that they could begin firing questions at me in preparation for the media appearances, and more importantly the town hall, where Abby reluctantly had to admit that the questions couldn't be vetted in advance. My most poignant addition to our post-speech powwow was an exclusive for the afro-haired journalist-student, which Abby agreed to allow before the townhall on the Sunday, as his newspaper would only appear the next morning and have little influence on the outcome of the election that same day (or so we thought).

By the time Abby reluctantly agreed to let us all out, dusk gripped the world, and the crowd had dispersed. Matt and Keisha excused themselves quickly and headed homewards. Irina and Alex murmured about wanting to go grab a pint somewhere, and invited me, Cindy and Abby along. Cindy gave me a quizzical look, evidently leaving the decision up to me. "You go," I told her, "the speech took it out of me, and I should head home. But you can get to know Irina and Alex better, and anyway, me and Abby have something we need to discuss." Leaning in under the promise of giving her a kiss I whispered to Cindy in explanation "She promised me epic sex if I performed well in the speech."

I will admit I was slightly nervous as to Cindy's reaction, but she chuckled, and smiled widely in evident approval. I never once questioned my luck.

So Cindy headed off with Irina and Alex, and I was left walking home with Abby.

It was a short walk. We did it mostly silently, not out of awkwardness as one might be forgiven to think, but because we were both contemplative about the day. The one conversation we did have was about numbers. One week we had to get me elected, and despite my better judgement I was starting to get excited. The speech today had done a lot. But how many people had come to hear me speak? 200? 300 at a stretch? A comparatively small portion of a university that officially counted its students by the thousands. And, of my listening crowd not all were eligible voters. The teachers had to be silent and superficially impartial onlookers and graduate students, while free to express opinion, would not be allowed to vote.

So the question was, how many articles would be written about this, how favorable would they be, and who would read them? We juggled the numbers, and figured we would have reached approximately half of the likely voters. Abby began to think about starting a voter-drive, something she hadn't thought necessary before.