The Tale of Emperor Wallace Thrinklebopple

The weather was warm and the sky was clear as an unmarked white van drove into the town square. A figure emerged from the driver's side; he was dressed in an opulent uniform consisting of a blue blazer and slacks, a red vest with gold buttons over a white shirt, and a simple black tie. The uniform was clean, albeit highly wrinkled, in marked contrast to his uneven facial hair, large eyes, and ancient dirty sneakers.

He opened the back door of the van and began retrieving items. He began with a soapbox, as is traditional of what he was about to do. This was followed by a series of large speakers, which he wired up and connected to a megaphone. Some people in the square were taking notice, most confused, not sure if they should call the police or not.

He cleared his throat as he stood on the soapbox and began speaking into the megaphone.

“Attention, may I have your attention please,” he began. “I am Wallace Thrinklebopple, and I hereby declare myself emperor of these United States of America. Thank you, I’ll be repeating this message as needed. That is all.”

The crowd didn’t know how to respond.

MEANWHILE! AT THE WHITEHOUSE

The president did. He called his cabinet and began “Well, folks, I guess we had a good run, but we’re out of a job. The Emperor Wallace Thrinklebopple has spoken. Let’s send him a plane so he can take his place.”

“Wait what?” one of the cabinet members asked, “What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” One of the other cabinet members asked, “we have an emperor now, I guess we couldn’t keep the republic.”

“We can’t stand against the Emperor, he’s the Emperor after all. We’re just people.”

The president nodded solemnly, “that’s correct. Let’s send him a jet, get him a security detail, and give him the tour. We had a good run, but now begins the reign of Emperor Thrinklebopple.”

That all happened remarkably quickly.

MEANWHILE IN RURAL NEBRASKA

Nothing particularly interesting was happening. It was rural Nebraska after all.

MEANWHILE IN UTAH

Mormons were doing Mormon things as they are wont to do.

Emperor Thrinklebopple was quick on the uptake of governance; after all, what kind of Emperor wouldn’t have a strong idea of how to govern. His first hundred days were contentious, considering he ordered the immediate execution of several million people.

But after Todd, Corey and PJ were killed, people realized that most of them were Nazis, and people were pretty much okay with the Nazi killing. It turned out that there are a surprising number of people the world would just be better without. Many of whom are Nazis.

Not the kind of hypersensitive “everyone who disagrees with me is a Nazi” Nazis, but actual Nazi Nazis, self-identifying, genocide supporting Nazis.

After that, Emperor Thrinklebopple began fixing other problems. Specifically, he began building low-income housing, solving the climate crisis and cracking down on corporate corruption, and incorporating a national “hit a moron with a stick” program, where specially designated individuals were allowed to hit people with sticks if that person was doing something incredibly stupid. This might include writing a piece of erotic fiction for a contest the author knows he will not win, staring at a man named Wallace Thrinklebopple who declares himself emperor of the United States and then proceeds to make everything better. That is definitely a hit with stick idea.

He managed to do this, mostly because who would stand up to the Emperor? Nobody, that’s who. You don’t want low-income housing in your neighborhood, tough luck, the Emperor has decreed it will be built. Have a tax loophole that makes your corporation not pay taxes? Not anymore, Emperor Thrinklebopple has declared you owe taxes.

This would ultimately introduce a golden age that lasted a thousand years, until Emperor Theodore J. Dunkleflopper contracted rabies before naming a successor, resulting in a civil war. But that’s a story for another time.

After four years, Emperor Thrinklebopple was sitting behind his desk reviewing the latest important documents when his chief advisor, Literally Actually Satan, approached him.

“Emperor Thrinklebopple,” began Literally Actually Satan, “Have you given any thought to your successor or taking a wife?”

If you’re wondering how Literally Actually Satan became chief advisor to Emperor of the United States, well for hundreds of years, the other guy’s been helping, it’s in the oath of the president. Emperor Thinklebopple decided that maybe the other-other guy should help. Satan was happy to help, didn’t even ask for anything in return. What a swell guy?

“Yup I did,” beamed Emperor Thrinklebopple, “Obviously I’ll choose a successor. One by birth isn’t a good idea, so I’ll appoint one. Hereditary monarchies never seem to work out. In fact, I’ve got a list of people who might be good choices, but I was thinking of putting it in your hands. You’ve helped so much and I imagine I’ll ask you to help out my successor too. As for a wife, I don’t know.”

“Of course I will assist your successor, and their successor and theirs, until they no longer ask for my help,” answered Literally Actually Satan, isn’t he a swell guy? “As for a wife, I believe I can assist in this as well. Describe to me your ideal woman.”

“Well,” began the Emperor, “She should have nice boobies, and a nice butt, but not too nice. Shapely and tight instead of sheer size. Next, she should be Ivy League-educated, interested in punk rock, able to kick my ass. She should have a soft and melodic voice, not one that’s all gravelly and seductive. Also hugs. She should give really good hugs. A vegetarian would be good, but vegan not good, but that’s not super necessary. Strong hands are important too. Really the most important ones are the hugs and Ivy League education. Hugs are nice.”

Literally Actually Satan turned around and hefted his magic briefcase, and opened it. He began leafing through the various files and information he had, and retrieved about a dozen pictures of women, “These satisfy your criteria to an extent. I took the liberty of assuming that you would not want my interference in seduction, she should be heterosexual and with a comparable sex drive to you. Of course, this should be actual love, and I therefore will not interfere in courtship. You must choose one another of your own free will.” Literally Actually Satan handed the pictures, which were paper-clipped to dossiers about each woman.

“Gee, thanks, I can always count on you it seems,” Emperor Thrinklebopple beamed.

After a few days, Emperor Thrinklebopple called a press conference, “Hiya folks,” he began to an audience of reporters, fans, and hyper-intelligent dogs. “I’m calling this press conference to discuss that we’re, or I am looking to fill the position of ‘Empress’ in my governance. We’ll be posting a job application on our website. If you think you would be a good fit for the position of ‘Empress’ please submit an application as well as your resume. Also, despite the fact that the name ‘Empress’ implies a gendered restriction, the position is open to anybody, as long as they’re human. Now, we’re expecting a lot of applications, so if you don’t hear back, we probably didn’t read your application, since we won’t read all of them, if we get as many as we expect. Also, it might take a while to get through this. Because well, recently I found out the climate is changing and not in a good way. Did you know that? I didn’t. I’m going to be meeting with smart people to explain what’s going on and work on how to fix it. Maybe the climate doesn’t know it’s changing in a bad way and needs a psychiatrist to help it change in a good way. Maybe the climate just needs someone to talk to. I don’t know, I found out about this only a few days ago. Smart people will help, that’s why they’re smart people. Then we can work on helping the climate change in a good way. My advisors tell me this is important for the future of the planet, and I like the planet, it’s where I live and all my stuff is. Thank you. I’ll take some questions now.”

The plan worked flawlessly. Amongst the roughly dozen of the individuals Literally Actually Satan had suggested for Emperor Thrinklebopple to wed, ten of them applied for the position of ‘Empress.’ Admittedly, about half the population of the planet filled out an application, as who wouldn’t want to marry Emperor Thrinklebopple, super popular politician.

Of course, it wouldn’t do to just interview the ideal candidates, they had to interview a lot of people, to make things look fair. A fair few weren’t suitable for ‘Empress,’ but were suitable for other positions. Like the hit with stick department, and thus Reality Television was mandated to have a ‘hit with stick’ person at all times, ratings went up, and so did intelligence, as reality stars were prevented from doing incredibly dumb things by people hitting them with sticks. Fewer dumb role models.

Eventually, suitable candidates were pulled in for a second, then the third round of interviews, the third with the Emperor himself. Only three people made it to the third round of interviews, but it took a while, as people needed to be hired to hold interviews, and people needed to be interviewed to hire potential interviewers, who also needed to be interviewed. Except most of them were temps or interns. They weren’t going to keep on people who were just there to interview people for a position that would be filled.

The first and third of the three interviews Emperor Thrinklebopple are not relevant to this story, as the second interview is about who would become Empress. Her name was Phoebe Thrinklebopple nee Smith.

Emperor Thrinklebopple began the interview “Thank you for coming in today Ms. Smith. The guys who interviewed you passed along your information. You have a doctorate in AI correct?”

“Yes Emperor,” began Phoebe, “I have a doctorate from an Ivy League school and have been working in development in artificial intelligence. My thesis involved building an AI that would write trashy mystery and romance novels.”

“Like whodunnits? I like those! There’s this series about this dog who was a hitman but then he became a detective who specializes in finding out who did the hitman thing on the victims. I like that one.”

Phoebe blushed, “Detective Larry Barks? That’s one of mine actually, well my AI’s, I’m so glad to meet a fan.”

“Wowee! You’re Darla Brooks? I read all your books when I need to unwind. Sure they’re not high-class literature, but sometimes I just want to unwind.”

“Well, Darla Brooks is the name of the AI that wrote them. I haven’t actually read most of them myself, but I do get paid for the sale, it’s not like the AI has much use for money.”

“See, this makes you great. I’ve been thinking about rights for Computer Americans and stuff. Sure they might not be a problem now, but I figure we should solve that problem before it becomes one and if you’ve got a big brain and know about this stuff, you’d be great in that position. Now how are you at giving hugs?” Emperor Thrinklebopple’s eyes narrowed as he asked this one.

Phoebe was a bit unsure of how to answer, “Well, I’ve never had any complaints,” she said almost as a question.

“Well stand up, I gotta check your ability at giving hugs.”

Phoebe stood up quite unsure of what to expect but did her best. She was surprised to find that it was just a normal hug, the Emperor didn’t try to grab her butt or kiss, just a standard hug.

Thrinklebopple broke the hug, “Yup you’re good at hugs. You’ve also got a blackbelt in three martial arts right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, one of the last questions is this. Suppose you’re the final girl from a previous slasher movie, and the slasher is coming back for a sequel, and he’s going to target you first out of revenge for the previous movie. What do you do?”

Phoebe thought long and hard about this, “I’d travel to another slasher’s turf, and cause a versus movie between them. That way, there’ll be a never-ending battle between them and they can’t hurt anyone else as they vie for supremacy. Also, I’d use their fighting to generate electricity for the surrounding region, but have people nearby with high-powered weapons, including bazookas to murder them if they escape or someone wins.”

Emperor Thrinklebopple’s jaw hit the floor, “That was a perfect answer. Now, unfortunately, I have another interview scheduled for today, but I think you’re just about perfect, and am willing to offer you the position right now, acknowledging that I gotta do the other interview though, but that’s just because she’s a really nice lady who traveled pretty far for the interview, and we scheduled it, and it wouldn’t be right or cancel it last minute like. But if you’re interested, I’ll have somebody give you the tour and we can get dinner tonight and figure out the rest of this stuff.”

Phoebe was a bit taken aback, and flustered, “Of course I accept, thank you, Emperor, I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Please, we’re equals now, Emperor and Empress are equals so it’s Wallace or Wally, or I guess if you feel like still calling me Emperor that’s fine. Do you want to be called Phoebe or something else?”

“Thanks, Wallace. Phoebe is fine, I’ve never been much for formality.”

Emperor Thrinklbopple was good to his word and interviewed the third candidate, never once betraying the fact that she was not going to get the position. Especially since she wasn’t a good hugger. Total dealbreaker.

The story of Phoebe and Wallace planning their marriage and working together is for another time, perhaps. This is about their first time together.

“Uhm so do you want to make love tonight? Or have sex, I don’t know what the proper term would be,” Emperor Thrinklebopple asked at dinner, “It’s not a requirement of the job or nothing, I just thought maybe you’d be interested.”

Phoebe raised a quizzical eyebrow, “Eh, sure I’m in.”

Later that evening, Phoebe and Emperor Thrinklebopple were in the third bedroom, which they shared on occasion, and had too separate ones. Emperor Thrinklebopple liked a hard mattress in a cold room, while Phoebe preferred a soft mattress in a warm room and it just made all kinds of problems for them to sleep in the same bed or room most nights. They were kissing feverishly, sucking on each other's tongues, and digging into the back of their mouth as they animalistically helped each other with their clothing.

Despite initial appearances, Emperor Thrinklebopple had a great body. He normally wore garish and poorly fitting clothing, but underneath it was a toned, defined, and muscular body, he made sure to eat right and get exercise. He wore several layers, jacket, tie, shirt, vest, and undershirt, and he and Phoebe broke their kiss to strip off layers.

Once he was topless, Emperor Thrinklebopple helped Phoebe with her shirt. Her breasts were on the smaller size but firm, able to stay in place without a bra, and often went braless. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.

From there, they began taking their shoes and lower clothes off. Emperor Thrinklebopple wore boxer briefs that showed off his tightly sculpted ass and nice dick. Not a huge dick, but the kind that makes you go, ‘nice’ when you see it. Phoebe had a nicely curved ass, high and tight. She trimmed her pussy hair, not shaved completely, keeping a carefully tended garden.

“Can I suck your dick?” Phoebe asked, in the same tone of voice one might ask for a cup of water.

Emperor Thrinklebopple grinned, “can you ask me that again?”

“Can I suck your dick?”

“One more time? Please?”

Phoebe giggled slightly, “Can I suck your dick?”

Emperor Thrinklebopple gave a wide doofy smile, “only if afterward I can eat your pussy.”

“Deal lay back.”

Emperor Thrinklebopple leaned back on the bed, his shaft standing fully at attention.

Phoebe gazed at it lovingly, “You’ve really got a nice dick,” she said, pumping it slightly before wrapping her soft lips around it. She held it there for just a moment before bobbing on it lovingly. She hadn’t had a dick in her mouth in a while but found that she didn't lose the skill. She took the cock out of her mouth with a popping sound and asked in a soft melodic purr, “let me know before you cum, I’d rather not get it in my mouth.” She brought her mouth back to Emperor Thrinklebopple’s shaft.

After a few short moments, Emperor Thrinklebopple groaned “Oh, I’m about to cum.”

Phoebe removed her mouth, allowing Emperor Thrinklebopple to edge back from the climax, he was skilled at orgasm control. He looked at Phoebe’s smiling face and said “My turn.”

Phoebe stood up, and Emperor Thrinklebopple grabbed her arm, pulling her to the bed while he stood away to get between her legs. He brought his nose close to her pussy and inhaled deeply, “wow you smell good,” he whispered.

“What? I didn’t hear you.” Phoebe said.

Emperor Thrinklebopple lifted his head up, “I said you smell good.”

“Oh thanks,” Phoebe blushed, “you can go back."

Emperor Thrinklebopple’s doofy grin returned, “Okay,” and he lowered his head back to Phoebe’s pussy and brushed his tongue across the outer lips of her pussy. He then turned attention to the clit, swirling his tongue around it and gently sucking on it. After a few minutes of giving attention there, he kissed her pussy lips and dove his tongue inside them.

As he cleaned the inside of her pussy with his tongue, he used the tip of his nose to stimulate her clit. Phoebe’s juices were flowing freely, coating the Emperor’s face. A few minutes of deep, lascivious licking and Phoebe came, covering the Emperor’s face in her juices.

The emperor looked up, struggling to catch his breath, his tongue drooping out of his mouth. He crawled up Phoebe’s stomach, until he was face to face with her, gazing into one another’s eyes. Phoebe reached up, and with one hand wiped some of her pussy juice off the Emperor’s face and put it into her mouth, “I taste good,” she said with a slight laugh, “you know what to do next right?”

The emperor nodded, and with one hand slowly glided his dick into Phoebe’s dripping pussy. She sighed with delight as he slowly pushed his way into her.

“God you feel good,” Phoebe moaned.

The emperor slowly began moving, thrusting his hips into his new Empress, and she almost imperceptibly lifted herself to meet him which earth thrust. Soon, they were panting in ecstasy as he continued to thrust inside her.

Her pussy almost mercilessly constricted his dick, but she was wet enough that all it did was increase his pleasure.

As his and her climaxes built, they began moving with further intensity, faster thrusts, more aggressive grunts, and her ass barely stayed on the sheets as she kept grinding and humping to meet his thrusts. The collision of their bodies and sweat mixing serving only to feed into their lust.

With an inhuman groan, The emperor pulled out mere moments before he came, coating her belly with his seed. The empress having cum herself only moments earlier gripped the sheets, and panted, barely able to breathe.

“I think,” The emperor panted, “I think this is the continuation of the marvelous relationship.”

“Just one condition,” his Empress breathed.

“Anything, my empress,” the Emperor said, and he meant it.

“Get a vasectomy, I don't’ want kids and want you to cum inside me next time, and every time after that.”

“Deal,” with that the Emperor kissed the Empress gently, holding her close.

They fell asleep cuddling one another, above the blankets, and the next morning, the Emperor, true to his word made sure to get sterilized.