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.
