God Of The New World Ch 03

The blue haired slave impaled herself on God's towering penis, biting her lips to keep herself from screaming; as the Lord's naked vietnamese secretary cleared her throat, Amber took a moment to catch her breath, before starting to ride the Divine Cock in earnest.

Lily read from the clipboard. "On the whole, the international situation surrounding the RBM is still moving toward Your preferred resolution." Jon nodded; he had been overall supportive of the cause behind the Republic of Black Masters, and its path toward sovereignty, ever since the former NAHS's (or North American Harmony Sector's) experiments with "Decriminalizing White Men", instituted by the North American Viceroy, ran into implementation issues due to poor coordination and consensus with the local free, dominant population. Mostly this came down to keeping the situation under control - the God of the New World could far more easily manage an independent state reporting directly to Him, than He could relying on intermediaries to keep discontented citizens in check - but if he was being honest, a good part of it was that his own white cock still throbbed at the thought of black men and women lording over white sissys and submissive women, particularly in light of what he remembered from that part of the world in the days before his Godhood.

"However" the tiny naked asian continued, "the militias and insubordinate organizations outright opposing Your Divine Will are still proving to be problematic; they were actually going to be a topic on the agenda for your calls with both the North American and European Governors."

This went on for several minutes - Lily updated her Master on other topics ranging from Global Submissive Migration numbers (which would prove very relevant to the potential and future health of the young RBM), to the latest Climate and Biosphere Recovery Data, to the ever shrinking Heresy Rates (in each region), to economic and social development in the Vulnerable Sectors. All the while, Amber continued to ride her Master; finally, as he listened to updates on the upcoming People's Congress elections in China, Jon felt his balls quiver momentarily, and came, shooting his seed deep into his blue haired slave's womb.

*****

The black slave - bald, tall, powerfully built, and still dressed in her frilly, skimpy maid's uniform - barely managed to suppress her moans of ecstasy as the honey drenched lard continued to melt in her mouth, the whole wheat toast mixed in with the latest bite on extending and heightening the experience. She was taking her meal in the kitchen, standing out of the way in a corner; on the counter next to her was her platter, now almost empty but for a small piece of chocolate, and some fluffy crumbs left from the biscuits.

After finishing the Lord's first meal of the day, Chloe had turned her attention to preparing breakfast for the those concubines who had pleasured Him last - but would not be serving Him during His own meal; so mainly Caramel, Bonny, and Astrid (the last of whom, she was informed, would be eating baby food for the next few days) - before the blissful time came to watch Him consume her labors.

Caramel loved eating shit and drinking piss - the foul tastes exhilarated her, the absolute degradation drove her libido to heights she could not even comprehend otherwise, and the pleasure she brought her Master and her slave sisters filled her with an overwhelming sense of fulfillment. And into this seemingly perfected state of contentment, the toilet slave found yet more wonders - the extreme tastes encountered in her services, and the regular practice of finding the beauty within them, had elevated her palate's consciousness, such that, blessings on top of blessings, she was able to experience the euphoric genius of one of the most brilliant gourmet chef's alive in her time.

Swallowing the last bite of honeyed lard on toast, she finished up her breakfast by dropping the small bite of desert between her open lips; the moment the dark chocolate touched her tongue, Caramel shivered as she felt electric shivers coarse through her. Slowly letting the sweet taste fill her watering mouth, she finally gave in, and reached down under the low neckline of her dress, and started to play with her nipples; but just as she was starting to feel herself getting wet, her throat constricted and she swallowed the last bite of her first meal.

Sighing contentedly, then taking a final sip of water, Caramel straightened out her uniform, and proceeded back to her room; she still had to wash up and get changed, before reporting to the palace gym for her morning workout.

*****

The "prayers" provided to the God of the New World were, as always, prepared by the high clergy of His church; mostly rote soliloquies, praising His Greatness, Mercy, and Awe Inspiring Domination and Love, but also there were snippets of personal pleas, no doubt making their way to His Divine Gaze from the selling of expensive indulgences.

Handing off the papers to Lily, Jon was handed a new set in turn; none of the official documents submitted by the various governments were particularly important or unexpected, and so were signed quickly without issue. Before turning his attention to family matters, the lord decided to quickly review his latest Celestial Directive. Reading over what was to become his latest Divine Command upon the world, Jon had a thought.

"Secretary slut" he asked, "I imagine the issue of those insubordinates in North America will be coming up in my zoom meeting with the viceroys, yes?" When Lily nodded, Jon decided, "In that case, let's hold off on signing this until I hear their input." With that, he moved to family matters, taking the remaining paperwork into one of his sitting rooms.

*****

Caramel lightly jogged across the indoor gardens, her running shoes digging into the soft, grassy soil, now that she was changed into her workout uniform - a white sports bra firmly containing and constricting her mounds to her chest, and a matching pair of tight short shorts, tightly sealing away her cooch and buttcrack. She was making her way past a tall wall of bushes, the fresh air pouring in from the open windows filling her lungs; but for the mirrored ceiling, she might not guess at still being high up inside a skyscraper. The indoor gardens were not, strictly speaking, the quickest path between the chambers of the inner harem and the palace gym - the elevator that took sluts to the exercise floor was actually accessible right by Caramel's room - but it was the most scenic, and the blessed toilet slave was in no rush today. And as she past the bushes, her favorite sight of this scenic route greeted her.

Squatting four legged and intensely biting her lip was a completely hairless white woman, brightly colored flowers tattooed across her scalp and an intense look up on her face as she bit her pierced lips, a small chain, protruding from her pierced tongue, dangling from between those lips down to her collar; her hands were encased in "paw" mittens and likewise chained; the piercings through her small tits were different from other sluts, in that they were somewhat bulkier, doubling as they did for electric shockers, and a similar bulky piercing could be found between the snow bunny's legs. And below all of that, coming out of her other hole, was a thick brown log of poop, being deposited onto a plastic sheet the skank was standing atop of.

Watching over the bitch with an amused smirk was one of Caramel's sister sluts, holding a leash attached to the shitter's collar; and behind her, watching and panting from his position lounged across the grass, was Champ, the palace's black 200 lb mastiff. Caramel joined her sister in smirking.

She always got such a warm feeling inside of her when she got a glimpse of Jessica, the last of the kennel girls. Decades past, the God of the New World had taken a special interest in a certain number of harlots who had, at some point in the history of His New Order, had proven, at some level, troublesome; rather than pawn them off to be rehabilitated by His Offspring, to have their desires and souls aligned with the purposes His Will had given them, He had chosen for these selected a special treatment - the Power would only take charge of their body's functions, allowing the recesses of the defiant minds to rage against His Dominion if they so chose, or to come to terms with their place on their own terms, and willingly surrender the minds and remaining freedom.

In the years since, every woman chosen to serve in the kennels eventually surrendered themselves in this way - including Jessica. But where God found his other subservient bitches new lives, be it serving in His own harem or under a new master in another part of the world, for this particular bitch He had allowed her to keep the contentment she had found living as His dog. Caramel sometimes wondered why this one had been treated differently from the other defiants - speculation that was fueled by the occasional eerie sensation that, magnificent sexual aura aside, that the cunt had an eerie resemble to her Master - but, truth be told, she did not particularly care.

If anything, she was a bit forlorn that this happy pet was all that remained of one of the days when loyal whores could enjoy the spectacle of seeing blasphemers seething in rage as their precious autonomy was held from them, or of uncontrollably arousing sensations of making a reluctant piece of meat obey and serve them. There were murmurs, however, that His Direct Intervention might soon be sought after to deal with some troublemakers; if He gave it, then soon enough the kennels might be filled again.

Quivering at the memory and the prospect, Caramel watched as her sister slut pulled on the string attached to the corners of the plastic sheet, and lifted the now bag filled with the kennel girl's defecation; then, as the caretaker tugged on the leash and led the large dog and formerly human dog away, she turned from them and continued to jog toward the elevator.

*****

With children and grandchildren too numerous to count, Jonathan found himself mainly keeping track mostly of those whose exploits most required his attention. He knew that they skewed heavily female, even by New World standards, with just over a hundred of his nearly five thousand children being sons. These sons, and the sons of these sons, and so on, practically all had impressive harems of their own, though they generally preferred living off of tribute to taking on official positions or jobs themselves; of the thousands of daughters he had, most enjoyed stable positions, generally either in the clergy or in some position among either the global elite or, less often, their harems.

The offspring who Jon kept tabs on tended to be the ones to break this mold - today, for example, he was reading about one of his granddaughters who had initially set out to become a dominatrix; she had accumulated a fair amount of property, including a penthouse, in her short career, and was in the process of building her own harem to house there. However, she had tried to win a a particular freewoman as one of her submissives in a simple strategy card game (no doubt intending to use her inherited mental powers to cheat), only to be defeated, and now foolishly found herself the bound property of this other woman. Her mother, a bishop, had officiated the deal, and declined her daughter's request to break the contract's Divinely Sanctioned seal, even offering this mystery woman to make her child contented in her new life of service. Jonathan, for his part, approved wholeheartedly.

Putting down the last paperwork for the day, the lord laid back and sighed contentedly, as the slut between his legs gently worshipped his taint. Glancing behind him, Jon took notice of the grandfather clock - he still had just over half an hour before his last official business of the day was scheduled to begin. He signaled to the whore who was standing at attention beside him, waiting upon his instructions, to go and tell Chloe that he was ready for his lunch now; she bowed her head, and quickly made her exit, as Jon felt the mouth beneath him move to service his balls.

Chloe, now wearing only a white skirt and naked from the waist up, proudly displaying her pitch black buxom breasts, came in carrying a tray holding Jon's light lunch - a simple tomato and goat cheese sandwich, with a special mojito made with rum, fizzy water, and her own ejaculate, which, he could clearly see, she had squirted right into the martini glass. As the chef approached, her master briefly turned his attention between his legs, grabbing the slut sucking his balls by her blue hair and dragging her gaze into his. "I'll want you to turn your worshipping to my rod now. I expect you to keep at it for at least the next hour, so try not to over exert yourself; but that said, if you'd like, don't be afraid to try and make me come as often as possible." Amber's eyes glowed, and she nodded in determination.

And so the Lord took his lunch. When the time for his meeting came, a laptop was delivered to Jon; he quickly logged onto zoom to find the North American Viceroy, the European President, and the Chinese Celestial Governor - a rugged mestizo man, a blonde with overflowing breasts, and a Han bombshell, respectively - were already in the meeting, waiting for him. "Sorry to keep you all -" Jon gasped slightly, and moaned in approval at Amber's ministrations. "- waiting; I'm ready to begin if all of you are."

*****

Caramel could feel the adrenaline pumping through her, as she finally heard the treadmill beep, indicating that she had just finished running five miles; as the machine decelerated, she managed to step off and catch her breath. As the high washed over her, the concubine glanced around the fitness center to see how her sister sluts were doing in comparison.

Down the row of treadmills, on either side of her, while she could see a number sluts who could keep pace with her more or less, she saw others who were already starting to get exhausted; fortunately, each of them had some device helping to keep them motivated. For some, it was by way of delivering electric shocks to their buttplugs; in many of their cases, the warily close to taut chains connecting their nipple and/or clit piercings to the front monitor, in conjunction with arm bindings, threatened those who couldn't keep up with an even more excruciating pain. The treadmills were always the hardest.

In the rest of the gym, the whores were more at ease - those at the squat machines were able to go at their own pace; those on the mats were incredibly relaxed, performing yoga or pilates; even the cycle classes were enjoying the hell out of the dildos pulsing in and out of their snatches with each pedal.

Catching her breath, Caramel made her way to the back room, where several massage tables and fellow sluts dressed in simple white gowns greeted her; looking among the fine, talented ladies gathered there, she took note of a short, dark skinned tramp of Indian descent, whose white sheet was pushed outward in all the right places and looked at her with a familiar smirk. Having made her choice, Caramel limped over to Fahash's table, then grabbed the masseuse's plump backside as she drove her tongue down the fellow servant's throat; then, breaking off the kiss just as suddenly, she disrobed taking off her sports bra, her short shorts, and her socks and shoes, as the woman she had chosen to rub her down caught her breath. Then she climbed atop the massage table, laying face down.

The next hour passed blissfully for Caramel, as she enjoyed the fine indhoe's ministrations, The oils being rubbed into her legs and back dissolved the tension she had built up during the morning exercises; as Fahash worked her ways up her client's upper thighs, to her bubbly butt, the massage started to take on more sensuous dimensions, and soon managed to elicit a continuous series of soft moans; at a certain point, the masseuse started to pay attention to Caramel's slit, initially teasing it with soft delicate touches, until eventually turning pretty much all the attentions of her expert hands to the loins of the oil covered slut, causing her started groan and thrash. At that point, Fahash dropped all pretenses and had Caramel flip over so that she could get those perfect tits as slick as the rest of the slut's body. Once the massage proceeded to this phase, it didn't take that long for Caramel to climax, and to soak her tender's hand with her juices.

As she came down from this, breathing heavily laid back on the massage table, Caramel happened to glance the clock on the wall. And even in her now relaxed state, it didn't take her long to jump down and bolt from the massage room, without any word to a confused Fahash. Rushing toward the elevator, still naked and slick with oil, the toilet slave decided then and there that she would just have to wait to take a shower; it was now after lunchtime, and the Master would be ready for her again soon.

*****

Jonathan was lying on his stomach, his chin nestled in bald black pussy, while his elbows on either side of him were each pressing down on a meaty chocolate thigh protruding outward, as in front of him he held the game controller in his hands, in front of a landscape framed by the sista's feet hanging off the end of the bed, and centered by the flat screen tv display booting up the console. Underneath the comforter, sheathing Jon from the neck backward, he felt his chest being calmly moved up and down by his slut's strong diaphragm, while his own stomach pressed into her fleshy pillows, and the head of his (as yet) flaccid penis rested inside a warm mouth, atop a patient tongue.

The console menu loaded, and Jon made his selection. He had been enjoying a lot of classic (late Old World Era) Battle Royale games of late; fortunately, there were plenty of gaming connoisseurs online, including any number of middle class masters and slaves with free time, whom the man they called God could join incognito to play against. (Though there was a fair amount about His private life that He may wish to share with His worshippers across the planet, Jon, for his part, was happy that nobody outside his harem knew enough about his online habits to pose any difficulty in this.) He saw that a couple of players he had enjoyed going up against last week were back again, and chose his match.

Shortly thereafter, as Jon's selected avatar was parachuting onto the island, he felt Caramel climbing into the bed and ducking under the covers; by the time his character had even landed, he felt her familiar long tongue drilling the flesh between his cheeks. Within a few seconds of this, the Lord felt his bladder spasm, and he finally allowed himself to piss into his pillow throat's mouth in earnest; Koko kept pace with her swallowing, as dutifully as ever.

The God of the New World spent the next hour and a half unwinding from the morning's Celestial Duties.