How I Became Emperor Ch. 07: Tue-Fri

I am aware of the strong racial prejudice that may appear in this, that a black woman became my sex-toy. To those who find it insulting, repugnant, white-supremacist aligned or otherwise offensive, I say this: I never forced Keisha into sex. All of my partners of color willingly entered the copulation, and of those only Keisha has, to date, actively wanted to become mine and Cindy's fuck-toy. I would also have other sexually submissive partners in the future, who liked to be bound, unsure of my or Cindy's next actions and subject to our will and they came in every color, size, and age. And you have not yet progressed far enough in this re-telling to understand that Keisha also had dominatrix elements to her character. I promise the patient readers that they will come to light in future.

For the specific time on this particular Friday, Keisha was my willing slut and completely under my control. Despite that, Keisha didn't need goading to have my cock-head tickle the back of her throat. She pushed herself down onto my stiff member, goading herself to swallow more and more of my penis. I was reaching the brink quickly, and therefore decided it was time to change the game. "Up" I commanded.

Keisha stood, her hands twitching towards my shaft, but held back by her will power. The naked woman before me looked luscious, and I decided to calm myself down. To keep her arousal going, however, I would play with her as I would a mannequin. Maneuvering her onto the bed, face up, with my hands was easy, lifting her arms above her head, and spreading her legs she also complied with meekly. From there I bent to smell at her quim, just below her shock of red-dyed pubic hair. The tangy scent drifted up my nose, sticky and wet.

Gently I let my nose touch, and wander amongst the folds of Keisha's pussy, small little puffs of air over the sensitive skin causing Keisha to twitch with pleasure. I took care not to be too forward, to let my own aching boner have a rest, and let blood flow back to my other extremities, but it was difficult when faced with such an inviting prospect. Nevertheless, I resolved that I would travel around and through those folds at least thrice (which I did) before changing tactics. After all, I did still want this minx chained to my bed for my pleasure, didn't I?

I continued to snuffle at Keisha's snatch, but flicked my tongue out to lick unexpectedly at her perineum. It got the reaction I had hoped for, a sudden upward jolt, away from the new sensation, and a yelp of surprise. But Keisha quickly pushed herself back into position. I figured that was an invitation to try the same again, and therefore gave long, lingering laps of pressure to my black goddess' perineum while my nose nudged insistently at her clit. I continued to breathe deeply, enjoying the musk of Keisha's pussy, the heady scent urging me on to greater heights. While I snuffled around the treat, more enticing than truffles, I flicked out my tongue at random. As these laps became more frequent I also began to let them drag all the way over the lower folds of Keisha's lower lips.

A few minutes of this, and I couldn't stand it anymore, so giving in somewhat to the urges of my body, I sat up, my legs splayed wide and bent at the knees so that my third leg stood out like a pillar. I grabbed Keisha under her ass, and lifted her to sit in my lap. I didn't penetrate her, but her vaginal folds did wrap hungrily around the side of my cock.

We kissed lustily, letting our arms wrap around each other, and the motion caused our genitalia to rub against each other.

"Please," Keisha moaned, "please master!"

I had the devil inside me and stubbornly refused to let her buck her hips in such a way as to effect the penetration. I also needed to school my mind so as not to allow the stimulation swamp over me and deny me my long-term goal.

But Keisha was just as possessed as I, and was driving hard to try and get her satisfaction. For all that we had a Master-Toy relationship, she was on-top and driving the action for the moment. But only for the moment.

As she bucked increasingly insistently I patiently waited - tortured - until finally she reached such a fever pitch in trying to either force me to enter her, or simply trying to increase the friction on her clitoris, that I was in a position to use her own momentum to lift us off the bed and flip us about. It was an almost violent action. We crashed back into the bed, me on top - and unintentionally thrust as deep inside of Keisha as I had ever been.

That single thrust was enough to throw Keisha into conniptions of ecstasy, the tightening of folds around my cock enough to throw me over the edge just moments behind her. I kept the presence of mind to pull out quickly, letting the second spurt splash against her red-dyed bush, and the third against the underside of her breasts.

In the hush after our exertions I glanced at my alarm clock. Barely an hour since Cindy had left, I still had plenty of time. Keisha lay in all her glory upon my bedspread, her hands idly massaging my cum into her skin.

"Stop that!" I admonished playfully, swatting at her hands. "I need you to still have a bare inch of skin when Cindy returns."

"Oh - there's nowhere near enough for that - yet." Keisha declared. "My face, my back, my butt, my shoulders, my legs... you've got some more regions to fill yet."

"Very well then." I countered. "Fuck-toy - you're going to blow me." And with that I straddled her head, and guided my cock into her mouth. I held her head in both my hands, and proceeded to drive my cock in and out repeatedly. She placed her hands on my butt - the better to help force me down her throat - and as a means by which to give me a signal should I be taking this too far. She never stopped pushing me further.

This - more one-sided pleasuring - was an interesting experience for me. As discussed above - I'm not usually a fan of gagging or power plays in bed.. But somehow the mixture of using Keisha so callously for my own pleasure - and without regard for her own release, or even caring whether she would be satisfied - was a massive power-rush. I knew there were limits, very specific ones, but for the moment, the ability to quite literally push Keisha's head into the pillow by forcing my dick down her throat - hearing her grunt and moan and gag and generally find pleasure in this act specifically designed not to give her pleasure... well it was very heady.

I kept it up for a surprisingly long time - perhaps a lack of imagination on my part. The fact that most of my blood was rushing downstairs rather than upstairs might have been a concrete part of it. But for a good five minutes I essentially utilized Keisha's head for my own purpose.

It ended as it must - with me pulling out of her mouth, letting her grasp my penis and pump energetically while she panted open-mouthed attempting to catch her breath - and the second ejaculation of mine for the morning splattering across her chin, her nose, her eyes, forehead and of course between those plump, red, gasping lips.

We spent another couple of minutes recuperating after that - Keisha finally managing to catch up with her breath, and I coming off the high of the power-rush. Keisha was the first to be able to speak again - though I wondered how. I would have expected her jaw to require medical attention.

"That... That we are going to have to do again." She managed to get out.

"You enjoyed that?!" I asked, not really surprised since I had seen and heard her reactions, but somehow still not really able to believe it.

"Hells yes!" She said enthusiastically.

"I just, I thought that it would have been rather uninteresting to you." I said as lightly as I could, propping myself up on one elbow. Keisha turned to face me on the bed, her face and body still smeared with my sperm.

"You underestimate my submissiveness." She giggled. "Seriously - the fact that I'm completely under your and Cindy's power gets me off almost without you guys touching me..."

"Well then," I mused looming over her again trying to appear threatening, "I am going to use you again, fuck-toy. You will be covered by my cum, if it is the death of me..."

I did in the end manage to spray across Keisha's bust and collarbones once more, and we were in the 4th round - both beginning to get a little tuckered out - when Cindy returned. She didn't even knock - and just walked into the room. Neither Keisha nor I noticed initially - copulating in doggy style, facing away from the door.

We did notice when she came around our side, and patted Keisha on the head as one would a pet.

"Is she performing her duty?" She asked me.

"Admirably." I wheezed.

Cindy motioned for me to pull out, which I did, and then proceeded to inspect Keisha minutely. She took more time than necessary sniffing around our fuck-toy's quim and breasts, ostensibly to inspect whether she had been sufficiently covered with my ejaculate. Keisha allowed the probing without much censorship.

"Hmpf," Cindy grunted once done with the inspection and sitting back on her haunches. "I will admit I'm impressed - but I did stipulate that you would have to be covered completely, and I do detect some spots free of my man's cum. Therefore..." She dipped a hand into her bag, and brought out a dog-collar, as if for a mastiff, complete with a silvery chain-link leash. Reaching up, she began to fasten it to Keisha's neck.

"You will have to remain here until Monday morning. We will take you out for walks, don't worry - you've been a very good girl - but otherwise you're to remain here and please us in any way we ask - understand?"

Keisha nodded meekly. She was absolutely loving this.

"Good." Cindy looped the other end of the chain around my bedpost such that should Keisha really want to get free, all she had to do was lift the loop up, and run. She didn't.

"Well, I'm sorry to cause coitus interruptus - but you my dear," Cindy leaned over to kiss me, "Are expected downstairs."

I sighed and headed for the door. As I left, Cindy turned her attention more seriously to Keisha. "You, my little pet." She cooed, "Are going to need to be cleaned.... Here, let me help you." My last view was of Cindy beginning to suckle between Keisha's legs.

After a cursory wash, I descended down as ordered - and was immediately chased back up the stairs. Erica's angry words hounding me. "You can't go in front of the media like that! Go!"

So, I returned to the shower, stripped, and took a much longer wash. Then spent a good ten minutes arraying my long hair into a simple ponytail and putting on the make-up as I had been taught. I found a suitably fresh pair of trousers, while enviously watching Cindy and Keisha in full ecstatic rictus, before heading back down the stairs.

This time I was apparently presentable, and Erica handed me the newly starched shirt I was to wear. Before leaving the door she also ensured my hat was suitably rakish, and fussed briefly with my jacket so that it sat correctly. Then I was ushered out of the door and into a waiting car.

Erica and Matt rode with me to... I actually didn't know where I was going. I still don't know exactly where we ended up beyond that it was one of the lecture halls I wasn't familiar with. Part of the reason I had no idea where I was headed was the constant bombard of questions Matt and Erica were throwing at me. I guess they were trying to get me in the groove for the upcoming press-conference.

Matt also handed me his written remarks I was to give at the beginning - but told me it was more of a list of major points rather than a full speech. Looking over it, it was a bit of both. Major headlines, listed in a natural order, and with some sub-paragraphs beneath each one with specifics I could state if I wished.

The lecture hall was empty when we arrived - but for Abby who sat in the front row making notes on a pad. They put me up behind the lectern, and then frowned at me variously, before proceeding to have a conversation about whether I should stand behind the lectern or off to the side of it. Matt championed the first - saying it made me look authoritative and in-control. Abby the second, saying I needed to be approachable. Erica wavered between the two.

In the end it was directed that for the media I should stay behind the lectern, but for the town-hall style public meeting the next day I should emerge from behind it. I groaned to myself - I had forgotten that I would have the same experience the next day.

In any case, after checking her watch, Abby directed me to go across the hall while she, Matt and Irina corralled the university media outlets into the room. Erica remained with me - making some last tugs at my clothing.

Despite all the preparation I was still blind-sided by the sheer number of media that turned up for my little press-conference. And as I would find out afterwards it wasn't just the university reporters that had shown up, but the local papers and even a tv station had sent representatives to get coverage. There were at least three cameras rolling, and a horde of recording devices splashed around the lectern to pick up my every word.

As I wandered past Abby who held open the door for me to enter I couldn't resist leaning in close and whispering "What? No blow-job before this one?"

There wasn't enough time for her to reply. I strode across behind the lectern, and welcomed all the reporters most graciously for having deigned to attend my little press conference.

Matt had helpfully given me a couple of jokes with which to lighten the mood early on - and the chuckles I was able to pull from the sea of rapt faces opposite me calmed me (and I suspect them) a bit and gave this a more relaxed feeling.

I gave my statements - outlined the majority of my positions on things like student representation, the university development, the fostering of social and cultural activities at the school, the strength of intra-mural sports in my programme, and so forth.

Then I opened the floor to questions. My god there were a lot of questions. There wasn't a reporter in the room that didn't immediately start calling my name, raising their hand and just directly shouting out questions.

I quickly decided to impose order. "Right, guys. Here's what we're going to do. I'm not going to get to you all, not and still be able to cast my vote for myself on Monday." They chuckled. "And I imagine you all have deadlines way before then as well. I also don't want to be accused of favoritism by calling on some of you but not others, or of dodging questions by not having certain people speak.

"So, I'm going to call on one of you. You may ask one question - and up to two follow up questions if you feel I haven't answered your question. Then you may decide on the next person to ask a question - not anyone sitting immediately adjacent to yourself, or anyone from the same paper/station/outlet or any other kind of affiliation. No passing back and forth between two people, and no favoritism. We're going to go until that clock there goes once fully around and to the hour-mark.

"Any attempt to deceive or otherwise outwit the system will cause you to forfeit your chance at a question until the next press conference. Any objections?"

There were none. I think they were all a little surprised themselves. So I picked someone. Back row, last seat on the right. The young man was obviously surprised at his chance, but stood and spoke his question. I forget the content of that, and all other questions that came. What is salient about this event is the system I implemented, which found great favor with the media, and was a talking point even in the non-university media the next day. I still use the system to this day - though I will admit having had to tweak the system a little further. In any case, it works well, and allows for a flow to the questioning that previous media conferences seemed not to have.

I answered the questions to the best of my ability, and as honestly as I could. None of the questions were particularly difficult. The media generally seemed to be enamoured with my unusual story. Oh don't get me wrong - there were difficult questions - and no doubt some questions specifically planted by Roger's cronies - but I believe I managed to answer them with aplomb. The only question I truly remember answering came from the curly-haired young man who had tried to rush me at the public speech: "Why did you decide to run?".

I thought about this one - then with a quick apologetic glance at Matt who didn't seem put out about it at all, I walked around the lectern, and leaned against it from the other side. "I didn't." I dead-panned. They all laughed. Obviously I had decided to do it in their eyes. "I remember making an off-hand comment to my girlfriend about the upcoming elections, and the next thing I knew I had a staff and was on the ballot."

"So your girlfriend coerced you into it?" The follow-up question came.

"No, no. I want to do this. I believe I will be good as the President of the student union. And the more I think about it, the more I know I am the right man for this job." That wasn't exactly a bald-faced lie. I did know I'd be better at the job than the idiot Roger, and the more I did think about it, the more I came to see myself as the President. But I still wouldn't have said I was the right man for the job. Just that I could see myself, and know myself capable of the job.

"You see, what I meant was that I didn't start off this year thinking about the upcoming election. I didn't sit down and plan out back in January that I was going to take over this job this year. I did mention to my girlfriend that the elections were coming, and had a discussion with some of my friends about it. They have since convinced me that this is the right moment and the right circumstances for me to run for this office."

The answer seemed to satisfy, and we moved on to other questions. A short time later the clock hit the hour mark, and I closed the press briefing with a short statement.

"Thank you all for coming. In the event I do get elected, if you're all still interested I'd be happy to come answer your questions again. We'll start with someone who was not able to ask a question this time."

And with that I was whisked away by my handlers. We only went across the hallway back to the other room where I had begun, and had a quick debrief with Abby. On the whole, everyone was reasonably happy with how the press conference had gone - but only time would tell what the reporters would write. It made Abby extremely nervous, and fun to tease.

I then headed off to a final lecture for the week.

When I returned home, both Cindy and Keisha were still naked, but thankfully asleep, wrapped around each other. I went to the kitchen for an evening snack, and then as the sun set, I disrobed and joined the two minxes in my bed, arranging for all of us to be covered by my small blanket.