Amanda Adams becomes My Queen Ch. 08

"Thank you, my Queen. That was......"

But you put your finger to my lips before I can finish.

***

"I know what it was and what it meant to you. No need to speak."

You tighten your embrace around me, and for the first time today, I think about the vulnerability you've kept so well out of my reach since I met you. It is part of this dance between us- you're leading.

"There is a reason why I took you now the way I did, and allowed you to cum the way I did. To say it plainly, its going to be quite awhile before anything like this happens again... Oh don't mistake my meaning, I will certainly be enjoying a multiplicity of orgasms everyday and you will certainly be a part of most of those, only... you wont be cumming..."

You pause allowing the gravity of your words to sink through me.

"There are two very important and practical reasons why you will not be having any orgasms for the foreseeable future with me, Buttercup. The first reason is simply that I get so much pleasure from teasing you and denying you and keeping you in a state of desperate desperate desire."

During this long dramatic pause my pulse doubles.

"The second reason is even more practical still: you can't have any sex while you're healing."

My eyes open widely.

"Yes, Buttercup, I'm about to make my ownership of you that-much-more-physical and permanent. Our last appointment today is at a piercing parlor... If you don't already know what a 'Prince Albert' is, you definitely will by the end of today."

I lay panting and staring blankly up into the roof of your Jeep. My post-orgasmic bliss gives way to fearful thoughts that begin their dark circling around the tower of my mind. As I lay motionless in this transfixed state, you absently begin putting my now-humbled monster back in its cage. I barely hear the click as you lock me once again safely away. You take a fresh Hello Kitty diaper out of your bag and I offer no resistance- even passively cooperating- as you reapply it- sticking the tapes tight around my waist.

"Lets get going," you urge gently, "Put your dress back on, I don't want to be late."

Your resolve is the only courage anywhere in sight, and I latch on to it with all my dwindling strength. You allow me to embrace you and hug me back with genuine sympathy. You can tell I'm scared... even with my face hidden against your heaving chest. But I'm also not protesting. Right now, at this moment, I'm willing to go through with this....for you.

***

The next thing I know is you driving us back down into the bowels of the parking structure. Almost immediately, you find a spot and pull in.

"Well, we're going to have to foot-it from here."

You get out and I wait for you to open my door- just as you directed me to wait last night. You take my hand and guide me to the elevator. The air is dewy and humid from the rain. Your demeanor is back to full confidence- invulnerability. Your plan is going perfectly, you've just enjoyed a satisfying sexual experience, and your new pet is putting up no fight- no resistance- throughout all the stages of you confiscating his man-hood- his person-hood.

When we descend to street level you open your umbrella and we begin to walk. Every step, I feel the cock cage. Every step, I'm conscious of wearing this diaper. I feel awkward again- like we hadn't even fucked at all. My balls still even feel mildly sore and blue, but it's the good kind of blue... is there a bad kind- I wonder? Also, the hard strapping administered by Ms. Jessica after the waxing is a constant and sore presence on my bottom- exacerbated by this walking. I don't even know what men look like when they walk. I'm sure I don't look quite normal walking now- probably a more feminine gate- but nobody is out on the streets in this rain to notice either way.

Through the rain I notice a back-lit sign that says 'Deborah's Tattoo and Piercing' with an elaborate Celtic knot woven into a rose pattern. It looks professional and modern enough, but it isn't enough to calm my raw nerves. The flood of fearful thoughts is back at the dam inside my chest.

"C'mon, Buttercup, this is it."

You're holding the door open for me. The fact that I just came inside you less than 10 minutes ago is not making this any easier. When I am horny and high on lust, I find that my attraction to these kinky things is hugely amplified. Ironically, the prospect of putting up with pain and humiliation right now isn't at all appealing, it's not turning me on, and I'm just not feeling enthusiastic about this next adventure. All at once, I feel like I'd like to drop out of this. If I'm being honest with myself, the idea of having my penis pierced seems only like a punishment- a sexy punishment- but a very painful punishment nonetheless. Just how long will it take for my poor caged penis to heal? I'm feeling deflated, and I know there's no fun in humiliating a deflated person. I turn my mind to this one over-arching consolation: that this will be very satisfying for you.

I see the look on your face, and my resolve comes ambling back. You look so excited, like a hopeful little girl on Christmas morning. I can tell this is something you expect but also desire very deeply for me. Also, I can't imagine pulling out of this and playing the coward now- not at a moment when I feel so close to (and dependent on) you. Ultimately, I want what you want. What kind of a pet would I be if I only agree to do things that aren't very scary, painful, or permanent?

"Hello Amanda!"

The third sister... this thought breaks through my self pity and brings me fully present, as I take in this new vision of a woman and blissfully forget myself

"Deborah! It's been... ages... and you're looking, mmmmmm, better than ever and I truly mean that. I never thought you'd go blonde let alone platinum!"

"Look closer, Amanda, its actually silver! like grey as in old lady hair! Its a new thing- you know 'cuz I'm like such a hipster."

"You have always been up on the latest trends."

A long pause ensues as you both continue to take each other in admiringly in that ancient ritual that females have when meeting after a long time apart.

"Who's your friend?" asks Deborah excitedly- finally looking at me.

"Deborah, I'd like you to meet Ms. B."

"Hello, Ms. B," she says taking my shaky hand, "Don't be nervous, I know just how to make my clients feel better walking out than they felt when they came in."

I'm moved more by her charisma than by her canned speech, and I do feel a little more at ease.

"Are we doing a tattoo today?" she asks, and it seems as though she really has no idea why you've brought me here.

"Actually...What's it going to be today?" you turn to me as if you expect me to make the order myself.

"A.....a........a.." I look to you for any kind of encouragement. You only nod. I.....piercing..... not a tattoo," is all I can manage.

"Hu hu ha... well, Sweetie, is there any particular appendage you'd like to have me pierce?"

to be continued...