by The 5am Club
(a tip of my cowboy hat to John Connors for his imprimatur)
She kept us up after all went down. From the rubble and the flames, she forged back the world. It was only natural we made her our God-Empress in exchange, whatever that was. Also it sounded cool: God-Empress Taylor Swift.
We closed our eyes on lots of things anyway. Like the Reaping. It was weird at first but we guessed it goes with the title. It’s not like I have to put up with it, I’m chancellor after all. Chancellor Selena Gomez. Always loved how it sounds.
But for all my privileges, it also means assisting the poor baby at her discretion. Supreme ruler of the world and still making my phone ring for a broken nail or Windows crashing.
Even more exasperating today because she’s in the middle of her Reaping ritual so I have ten minutes of stairs to the top of the pyramid. Good for cardio but I hate the awkward run alongside the endless line of people waiting for their turn, the word-of-mouth climbing faster than me, putting everyone to their knees like a stadium wave.
A stadium wave of naked, masturbating people is
awkward, believe me.
Obviously the ritual won’t be halted for me—the priestesses wouldn’t allow it—so as I am introduced to Taylor, a man is introduced with me and immediately he kneels at the feet of Our Majesty and starts stroking his penis.
I grumble “You needed assistance, Your Celestialness?”
And picture her on a throne, her ceremonial dress/armor shining in the sun, all regal and shit, and she just whispers nervously through her teeth: “Seven hours.”
Me and the head-priestess look at each other. No clue.
I turn around, eyes rolling, at my seven hours, and see nothing but the waiting line stretching to the horizon. They’re here to ejaculate on the feet of the God-Empress, which the guy beside me starts doing with a groan. His first jet of cum hits her toes and Taylor throws her head back in delight, the same she felt twelve hours and hundreds of people earlier. This will never cease to amaze me.
The head-priestess starts counting down the ropes of semen, “1… 2… 3…
” … “19… 20… 21…
He pumps and squirms and tries to spurt one more out but it’s no use. One streak short of being reaped into Taylor’s harem for next year.
A pat on the shoulder and he’s better luck next time
’d to the exit.
Meanwhile I don’t care about all this. I’m looking at my seven and I spot what Tay spotted. On the steps, between two contestants whacking and praying, there’s Alexandra Daddario.
“Cigarette break!” Taylor shouts before the priestesses can even hose down the jizz off her feet.
“God-Empress, you don’t smoke!”
I don’t, but she’s already pulling me by the arm to a balcony.
“You seen her?!” she asks me.
“Yeah the True Detective
girl? with the big…eyes.”
“Alex freakin’ Daddario wants to be in my harem, can you believe it?!
“She’s hot I guess…”
“We have to do something!”
“The trial is harder for women, they have to squirt for twenty-two seconds. Imagine she fails!”
“Just tell her you wanna bang her!”
“The priestesses won’t let me!”
“Tay, it’s your
stupid cult, now if you’ll excuse me, I have an ROI to measur—”
“Chancellor Gomez, I demand
And five minutes later, we come back. With a plan.
The mistress of the new world sits on her throne, presents her feet and the ritual resumes.
There are dozens of people before Daddario’s turn so I have to wait there. Which I hate cause it always turns me the fuck on. Everyone more gorgeous than the next, the men so incredibly hung, the women straight out of Photoshop. And their loads, Jesus… how do they not shrivel up and turn to dust?…
When our target steps in for her trial, Taylor is panting, not from the 50+ loads she just received, because of the one she’s about to take. The woman is completely naked, all the Blu-rays of True Detective
salvaged from the apocalypse can’t do justice to the solar magnificence that is her body.
She kneels down, raises her crotch above the holy pair of feet and starts masturbating.
That’s when I take my clothes off and big-spoon her.
She’s startled; the priestesses hiss in protest but Taylor shuts them up in one glare. Nothing in the law forbids external aid.
My fingers replace hers over her clitoris. “Play with your tits,” I sigh in her ear and she complies with a whimper.
She arches like a nymph, it’s incredible, I bet everybody behind me can see how wet I am now. Still, not as wet as her. As Taylor put it, she’s “rocked into the stratosphere just knowing Selena Gomez is touching her!” Without false modesty, she was right.
I work her G-spot, unleashing years of experience in Taylor’s harem upon her. She doesn’t stand a chance. I even add some personal style into it, because goddamn
I’m jilling Alexandra Daddario! The threesomes we’re gonna have all year! Taylor you glorious bitch!
I disregard the thousands of stares weighing on me and dirtytalk this beauty to heights of horniness she didn’t know existed.
She’s squishy like a sponge. I nod at Taylor and the God-Empress lifts the hem of her dress. All around us is stunned by blinding awe. Alexandra gazes into the Pussy; the Pussy is gazing back into her. She cries out lewdly as her hand joins mine deep within her folds. Together we make her squirt. A priestess turns a sandglass upside-down. Twenty-two seconds to go.
The first stream is so long and powerful I get nervous, even Alex gasps in disbelief and ecstasy. Taylor’s feet are splattered to the ankles. I hear her moan higher than usual: her exposed cunt is twitching on its own, the little whore is fucking cumming!
No force in the universe can keep me from relieving myself now. I reach down my buttcrack with my other hand and push two fingers up my asshole, joining the two goddesses in their bliss.
Behind me, a half-mile of people do the same. I know it because I suddenly hear the sound of their cum hitting the ground like the most surreal torrential hail.
I tear my eyes off the divine vagina and my mind off my orgasm: Alexandra is still squirting and the head-priestess is still paying attention, despite the hand under her toga.
A voice announces “TWENTY-TWO SECONDS!” We did it!
The girl keeps convulsing against my body, still torturing her nipples and squeezing her G-spot dry, her voice on the verge of breaking. Taylor jumps down her throne, head first between her legs, lips smacking against labia, and gulps down every gush left in her new harem resident.*****
Gonads empty, everybody leaves.
Alexandra walks down the steps, afterglowing. She taps the mic inside her tooth.
“I’m in,” she whispers.
“Congratulations Agent Daddario. All units stand by.
“Agent Upton standing by.
“Agent Minaj standing by.
“Agent Sweeney standing by.
“Sofía Vergara stanning by!
“Agent Dennings standing by.
“The fall of the twig is near.