Amanda Adams Becomes My Queen

"Yes, Ms. Deborah..." I almost stammer, "I think the kind of procedure I'm here for today is called a 'Prince Albert.'"

Her pretty blue eyes grow very wide as she stares at me. She blinks at me once, twice- maybe four times... She knits her eyebrows.

Finally, she shakes her head a little- flipping her amazing hair. She says, "That's a piercing I can only do on a... on a man... Did you mean to say clitoral or vulva piercing?"

I look over and see a deliciously satisfied smirk cross your face at Deborah's honest confusion.

"My Buttercup... Hmmmhmhmhmhm... Well actually, Ms. Debbie, you will find she does indeed have the right equipment for a 'Prince Albert,'" you snicker.

For some reason, both Ms. Deborah and I seem to be blushing with the same amount of red-cheeked embarrassment, but she quickly falls into step with your game.

"Oh!? Ok! Well! ... That's a very serious decision, Ms. B, I'll have to walk you through a full disclosure and have you sign a waiver that releases me... from any liability." She says, attempting to change our mood to a somber one.

"Oh please don't make my Buttercup more nervous than she already is. Can't you tell she's practically terrified?!" You ask in an attempt to reel me back, "She's very protective of her little... prince... Tell her that you're the best at this- that you've done this dozens of times and never had one complaint- tell her it's going to feel amazing once it's healed."

"I honestly don't know how it will feel for you," she says, "I can confirm that I've never gotten any negative feedback from my dozen-or-so clients that I've done this procedure for, but most of those guys I think were motivated by a submissive or masochistic kind of thing... The pain seemed to be a... positive turn on for them."

"What else can you tell us?" You encourage her to keep selling me.

"Hmmm. Well I guess I've been intimate with one guy who had that piercing done and it felt truly amazing inside me. I personally wish more guys were brave enough to do it- or girls...too..." She catches herself.

Foolishly I allow my gaze to drop down to Ms. Deborah's crotch. She's wearing the tightest grey yoga pants I've ever seen. Her pants- sweet Jesus! They leave very little up to my imagination. And though it might just be my imagination, I think I see a little dark discoloration around her quite-obvious camel toe. Was it that dark when we came in?

She catches me in the act of crotch gazing and now an accusatory smile is on her lips.

"I guess my question for you, Ms. B, is this: are you a true submissive? Do you crave to be completely under your dominant's control? Does it make your little heart race? If you have any doubts or reservations about serving your dominant completely then maybe this procedure isn't for you- yet," with her sexy delivery and staring intently at me with her piercing blue eyes she lays down the gauntlet.

I am at a loss for words.

"I am... my Queen's pet!" I say after a very long pause. I sound especially stupid to myself using such flowery language here in front of this hot young friend of yours. I immediately turn to you seeking approval- or backup.

You raise your eyebrow considerately, "You have been rising to the occasion very well today, my Buttercup, but I'm afraid Ms. Deborah has no way of knowing how you're so loyal and dedicated to me. She has no idea what has transpired between us over the last 24 hours. Let's show her some proof. Let's make a demonstration of your transformation. I think it would be appropriate for you to give her some kind of show right here and now... Ms. Deborah, would you be so kind as to draw the blinds and lock the front door?"

Ms. Deborah crosses the room with a growing smile on her face like she knows THIS is going to be sweet. She bends over like a ballet dancer to twist the lock at the bottom of the door frame. She dances to each set of blinds twisting the wands to obscure us from any would-be voyeurs.

"Alright!" she says as she shutters the last blind smiling an almost-perverted smile, "Now that there's no chance we'll be interrupted, I'm prepared to be amazed."

"Okay! Hmmmmmm... Buttercup," you address me sternly now, "When was the last time you went tinkle? Answer me... honestly."

I find that there is no spit in my suddenly-dry mouth, but I begin reflexively and gulp, "Yes, my Queen, I believe the last time was in... Ms. Jessica's studio."

"Were you sitting down on the toilet when you did that tinkle?" you continue your ironic condescension as you walk a few steps and put your arm around my waist and rest your other hand on my shoulder.

Your questions are sending me into a strange kind of reverie- strange because I find myself growing aroused thinking about being made to pee in that diaper right in front of an attractive woman. My penis is growing against its cage again. While the pee was still warm, she had removed my diaper and inspected it. To my amazement, something that had been so excruciating to bear less than two hours ago was now causing me to go blind with desire just to re-call it.

You whisper in my ear so that Deborah can't hear you, "I can feel your cum still inside me... maybe I'll make you lie down so I can drizzle it into your mouth while Deborah watches."

I shudder as you read my face to see what kind of effect you've elicited. I just gasp. My mouth hangs open.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhuh."

I wonder if that was a command or not- you only said, 'maybe.' So I remain standing.

Now- out loud- you ask, "How exactly did you go pee at Ms. Jessica's studio?"

"I... I went in my... I went in my diaper, my Queen."

I'm looking only at you, but I can hear Ms. Deborah snicker a surprised snicker at my answer. As if ignoring her reaction you continue, "Yes you did- like a good little girl... I know it made Ms. Jessica feel very happy that you obeyed her, and it makes me feel very happy that you showed such respect to one of my dear friends."

"Are you still wearing a diaper now?" Ms. Deborah ventures in a giggly playful inquisition of her own.

I sigh, "Uhhhhhh... Yes, Ms. Deborah."

"Show her, Buttercup," you command, but instead of waiting for me to obey you- you simply lift high the hem of my sundress.

She claps her hands together and lets out an excited, "Wheeeeeeeeeee! hahahahaha hmhmhmhm, oh I love Hello Kitty!"

You now turn your full attention to Ms. Deborah, "Deb, I'm usually not one to critique a friend on her choice of clothing, but I think I speak for the both of us when I say that your yoga pants leave... very little up to the imagination!"

"I guess they are a little snug." She shrugs indifferently.

"What I really mean is- is that it looks like you may be... a little excited?"

"Hmmmmm," Deborah reaches a sexy hand down to examine herself, "I guess I am feeling rather damp. Does it show?!" I notice her bright green nail polish against the dark grey cottony fabric. She keeps her hand on the moist oval slowly circling the spot with her fingertips- now unabashedly.

You smile at her encouragingly and nod your approval.

"How would you like a chance to see my Buttercup once again make use of her diaper? If you like, you can even take it off of her after she's made use of it. She is not to tamper with the diaper herself. She is under very... strict... orders."

You pat my butt once with every of those last three words for emphasis.

Ms. Deborah, still holding herself with her right hand saunters up close to you and I. She reaches her left hand under my dress and takes a hold of... incidentally, my straining penis- now fulfilling its cage. She uses her fingertips to decipher what's going on inside my diaper. She is trying to squeeze me, but my penis feels nothing like the anticipated appendage. There is something much harder than expected between her fingers now. A quizzical expression has taken hold of her face.

"What's going on in here?" she asks- still squeezing. Her breath is sweet and minty.

As is your wont, you turn your gaze to me indicating that I'd better try to answer her question.

"My queen- in her wisdom- has seen fit to fix me with a device that entrusts my sexuality to her sole scrutiny... In other words- I am locked in a chastity device... My Queen wears the only key you see there around her neck," I hope that my poetic prose pleases you. You appear unmoved, but you're still smiling.

"Where did you get such a thing, Ms. Amanda? Did you have one just lying around waiting for some poor sap to come wandering into your dungeon?"

Ms. Debbie continues rubbing herself as she studies my cage as intently as she can with her free hand through my diaper.

You don't answer her question; you just laugh and sexily shrug your shoulders as if Deborah had only asked her question rhetorically- or just to be funny. I do detect a slight blush on your cheeks though.

I am a little surprised at myself; why hadn't I wondered the same thing? Why did you have a cock cage just waiting for me in your drawer?

The confusion remains on Deborah's face, but she gives up on her first question about why you happened to have a male chastity device on hand. She turns back to face me, "Is that what this is all about? Are you hoping that a Prince Albert piercing will make her total control over you that much more... real?"

As she asks this, Ms. Deborah really gets into fondling my still-sore testicles through my diaper. I widen my stance in submission to her- to give her better access to my diapered area. I involuntarily open my mouth in a wide inhalation and close my eyes. It takes me a moment to remember what her question was to me.

"Yes!" I say with my eyes still closed, "I want my Queen to have as much control over me as she desires... my every bodily function... my slightest sexual urge... my pleasure... my pain... every nerve in my fiber."

Where is all this poetry coming from? I don't know but I continue, "When I see or hear something that turns me on, I want my immediate reflex to be that my Queen controls my every sexual pleasure."

It's as if Deborah is squeezing these words out of me with her one hand under my skirt holding firm my balls. Listening to me, she rubs her own pussy with increased intensity. You just keep your hand at the small of my back and smile at us approvingly.

"It's okay, Honey," you whisper to me, "Let go of your bladder for Ms. Deborah now... Let it go."

With a face full of ecstatic shame, I begin to do as you say.

"Look at her." You gently command.

I can feel the warm stream of pee flowing out through my urethra into the pillow of cotton held by her hand. Her smile broadens wider. Her teeth are perfect. I admire her sharp white incisors. She's breathing even heavier now. She slowly blinks her bright blue eyes in demonstration of her own high arousal. She steps in closer and rests her ear against my chest. I smell her striking silver hair- mixed in with notes of her own sexy-woman scent- like the woody smell she must leave on her pillow in the morning. Now she's softly moaning and I can feel those sweet reverberations all through my own chest cavity. Could this beautiful girl that I just met be getting off on feeling me pee into my diaper- getting off on my humiliation? It seems so ironic to me- how eagerly she's soaking this up.

Just as I finish peeing, her body begins to shake and tremble. Her right hand is now rubbing deliberately. With a high-pitched note of desperation she announces, "I'm going to cum!"

She squeezes down hard around my caged cock- so hard I'm actually glad for the protection the metal bars are providing. She lets out a squeal that makes my knees go weak. I feel my head go light as my knees buckle underneath me. Its as if her orgasm flew out of her mouth and into mine. I've never felt a pleasure quite like this before. Her cumming has floored me.

My next conscious thought is that I'm wearing a soggy wet diaper, and looking up into the faces of two smiling beautiful women- one with silver hair- still red-cheeked and dewy with sweat- the other is you, my Queen.

"What happened, Buttercup?" You ask with some concern.

"I don't really know, my Queen... when Ms. Deborah... you know...her whole uhhh... just kind of made me lose it... lose all control for a second."

"Well you certainly lost control of your bladder," Deborah still pants a little. She's looking at my diaper with a satisfied smile.

"Do I still get to... take that off for her?" she defers to you.

"Of course, Ms. Debbie, please have at it."

Kneeling down toward me, Ms. Deborah is wearing the excited smile of a child about to open her first present on Christmas morning.

"I can't wait to see this imprisoned prince... soon to be Prince Albert," she teases.

You reach into your big purse and fish out a package of baby wipes to hand to her. I wonder what else you've got in there?

"Thanks," she says reaching up to you and grabbing them. Next her green fingertips are pulling at the tapes and I let my head fall back to look up at the ceiling. A most intense embarrassment has returned to my cheeks, and I'm unable to look at the hilarity dancing across her pretty face. I sense that she's about to have a satisfying laugh at my expense.

She eagerly tears away at my diaper and gasps loudly. Shrieking a little with joy she announces, "Wow you really had to go! You shouldn't hold it so long. What a cute cage! I've really never seen anything like this before! And you're looking like you're about to burst out of it! Doesn't it hurt?"

I look up at you before answering her, "It's a little uncomfortable when I'm aroused, but it's not the kind of pain you'd take drugs for... it's more the good kind of pain- the pain of exquisite frustration."

You smile your approval at my clever answer.

She balls up my soaking wet diaper and re-uses the tapes to hold it's new shape. She sets it on the floor beside her and opens the package of wipes. She pulls one out and presses it to my hairless skin wiping away the faint residue. The smell of the wipes combined with my own urine arouse my most primordial memories. With her gentle loving ministrations, that shameful pleasure is once again swimming down through my lower abdomen. She seems to be staring at my poor, imprisoned cock.

"Going to have to parole this little prisoner if you want to still go through with the procedure..." She states the obvious.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that yet," you say- getting our immediate attention, "I have this idea I can't get out of my head- a scene- something I want to make happen right now..."

"What do you mean, Ms. Amanda? I think your Buttercup has done rather well proving her submission to you... I mean I'm convinced!" Deborah beams at me.

"That's nice to hear but this isn't about proving anything... It's just because I happen to be extremely turned-on right now and I deserve the same kind of satisfaction you just got."

You reach into your bottomless carpet bag of a purse again and pull out the lifelike strap-on dildo that you wore last night when you bent me over the bedside and took my ass for the first time in my life.

"Deborah, be honest. Did you really cum just a minute ago when you felt Buttercup pee in her diaper?"

Ms. Deborah's hesitance speaks volumes. She looks sheepishly down at the ground toward the wet wipes.

"I uh... Yeah I guess I really did. I mean: I did. It just all seemed so kinky and I think Buttercup is really cute."

"Have you ever tried pegging before? Have you ever experienced the pleasure of penetrating a person's asshole using something like this?" You hold out the evil, seductive apparatus to her.

She carefully takes it from your hands and begins giving it a close inspection, "Do you think it would fit me?"

"Only one way to find out! Shimmy out of those sinful yoga... pants- we'll call them. That harness has a special nub that is designed to rub against your clitoris every time you thrust." You emphasize this by demonstrably thrusting your hips forward. Your hands are out as if holding on to an invisible pair of hips.

"MMMMMM," you grunt. I wince- just a little- at the vivid preview you've just given us of what's about to happen to me.

During this conversation my pulse doubles and I've begun panting again. Will this beautiful girl simply strip naked in front of me just because you asked her to? Are you really going to make her take my ass with that thing? Worst of all, will you notice the new stripes of pain Ms. Jessica left on my ass at the wax shop when you see my poor butt on display?

Deborah gets to her feet and immediately slips her tight wet pants down over her perfect girlish hips. She has no pubic hair at all, but she has faint bikini tan lines. She doesn't stop there; she removes her halter top revealing her pert little breasts with fully-erect, pink nipples framed by more beautiful triangular tan-lines. She must be very young- I think. Taking in her beautiful nakedness, my breath catches in my throat.

I'm so enthralled by watching this nymph strip herself in front of me that I fail to notice you've quietly been getting naked behind me. As you step around completely nude in front of me I think with awe about your pussy- still swollen up with my own sticky seed. Your gleaming key-charmed necklace stands out against your perfect white skin.

"Now we're naked, Buttercup, your turn! Remove the clothes you're still wearing. Your cage will remain on for this, and your wig too. Go bend over that table with your cage resting against the edge and your palms facing down."

"Yes, my Queen," I acknowledge as I begin to remove my sundress. My heart is pounding hard and my dick feels like a chained fist. Absurdly, my biggest fear is that you will accuse me of failing to disclose the punishment administered on the sly by Ms. Jessica- a rival woman.

Now naked, I assume the position you so articulated. I feel very prone, completely exposed, humiliated, and more-than-a-little scared.

You move in behind me and begin caressing my ass cheeks, "What are these marks?" You get right to point. Your tone isn't one of curiosity, it's an accusation.

"Ms. Jessica, whipped me because of my... your penis was too big to fit back in the cage when she got done waxing me, my Queen."

You sigh dramatically, and I can tell that Ms. Deborah's giggle at my answer only serves to annoy more.

"Looks like she really got you good!" you pause to let my emotions reach their pitch, "Did you really think I and the other ladies in the waiting room couldn't hear that tawse- Ms. Jessica keeps in her top drawer- cracking against your ass cheeks? Or the sweet way you dutifully counted every strike? Oh I knew! I was only curious to know if you'd confess it to me or if you'd try to sneak around and try to hide your marks from me." You laugh- but it's not a good-natured laugh; there's a hurt edge to it.

In my panic, I look back over my shoulder to try to see your expression but instead I see that Ms. Debbie has donned your special prosthesis and she has her hands on her hips resting right above the tough leather straps. She looks confident and ready for action. She looks down at her cock and wags it back and forth a little. She seems to be in love with it. Her new appearance multiplies my fear. She has no experience...What if she's too enthused- too rough? Without realizing it, I'm greedily imbibing this image of her.

"Eyes forward!" you snap. Apparently, I had been staring at Ms. Debbie a little too long for your liking.

You step in right behind me pressing your hips forcefully against my sore red cheeks, your smooth skin touching my own. The the fronts of your thighs are connected to the backsides of mine, and the caps of your knees fill the cups of mine. You sway and gyrate making me move with you so I can feel your control over my body. You bend over resting your nipples on my tense back muscles and inhale deeply with your nose at the nape of my neck. My cage knocks uncomfortably at the edge of the table.