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  • Queen Felicia Ch. 01

Queen Felicia Ch. 01

Felicia, Queen Felicia, and I met online. From her profile it was readily apparent that she was dominant, intelligent, mature, and beautiful. My profile made it perfectly clear that I was an extremely submissive SWM, craving extreme discipline, humiliation, degradation, servitude, toilet training, cbt, chastity, and cuckolding. We were a perfect match.

We agreed to meet for lunch at a Ruby Tuesday near her office. We both agreed it would be good to hash things out before we made any commitments to each other or made any lifestyle adjustments. She warned me though. This would be my last opportunity to speak my mind and ask any questions. If we proceeded any further, it would be on her terms; she would have complete control at all times.

Queen Felicia also ordered me to bring $200 cash with me. The money was not for her, not meant as a "tribute" or payment for her time. Instead, she explained, if all went well she would use that money to purchase my chastity device. She felt it was imperative that I not have any access to said device, or the keys, before she locked it on her new property.

We met on a Thursday afternoon for a late lunch at 2:00. At that hour, we practically had the place to ourselves. She was more beautiful and more regal than her pictures had portrayed. Though dressed casually, she was a vision of loveliness.

When the waitress came to take our order, Queen Felicia ordered a grilled chicken salad (no dressing) for me and an order of ribs for herself. While we waited for our meal, we had our heart to heart discussion, a free flowing conversation that left no doubt that we were of the same mind.

With our meals set out before us, Queen Felicia simply asked: "Then we are in total agreement?"

"Yes my Queen."

"Then let us begin. As a token of your commitment, give me the money I asked for."

I removed an envelope from my jacket pocket which contained not only the money she requested but a written pledge of my devotion and surrender to her. As she placed the envelope into her bag she retrieved a small bottle, a bottle whose amber liquid shimmered in the glow of our table's candle.

Pouring the liquid over my salad, saturating every lettuce leaf and each tomato, soaking every piece of grilled chicken, my new Queen said, "no salad is complete without dressing, now is it slave?"

"No my Queen. Thank you."

While we ate Queen Felicia told me to book a room at the Wyndham hotel in Deerfield Beach for the following weekend. I was also to make dinner reservations at Oceans 234 for the following Friday evening.

Before the waitress cleared away our plates Queen Felicia offered me her fingers to clean. I sucked the BBQ sauce from the ribs until her digits were spotless.

"I bet you're very thirsty now aren't you slave?"

"Yes my Queen."

"Well why don't you lift your salad plate and suck down the last remnants of your special dressing."

"Thank you Queen Felicia."

"Take care of the bill, leave a generous tip, and then meet me in the parking lot."

And before I could say anything, she was headed out the door. I left the money on the table, including a $20 tip, and followed my Queen. She was standing by her car in the second row of the parking lot.

"Kneel down before me and don't say a word."

I'm no dummy, I followed her orders and knelt before her.

"I grant you permission to plant one kiss upon each of my shoes."

As they were open toed shoes, I got to kiss not only her shoes but her toes as well.

"Remain where you are slave."

I kept my head bowed as she spread her legs and inched forward until she was straddling my head. After a soft and gentle sigh escaped from her lips, Queen Felicia let loose a torrent of her golden elixir. My hair, my head, my shirt were soaked with her now familiar piss. Though she couldn't see it, I was proudly smiling. I had been marked by my Queen.

She slowly stepped away from me and got into her car. Addressing my still kneeling form, she said: "Go to the 7-Eleven across the street and get me a pack of Marlboros and a bottle of water. And be quick."

And I was. I proudly walked in, smelling of piss, dripping piss, and carried out my Queen's orders. Upon my return, I stood outside her door. She lowered her window and said:

"You've done well thus far. Hand me my water and cigs."

I complied.

"Open your mouth slave."

Once again I complied and was rewarded with Queen Felicia's warm, scented panties stuffed into my mouth.

"You've earned this souvenir my little whore. If you want to earn further rewards, make sure you answer your phone on the third ring when I call you next Friday afternoon. Make sure you're in the hotel room and make sure your cock and balls are shaved. Be prepared to have your limits obliterated and your life forever changed. Until then, you may NOT initiate any contact with me."

Then she smiled at me, pursed her lips, and spat upon my face. She laughed as she raised her window, drove away, and left me in her wake.

----

Friday afternoon, 1:00, found me kneeling by the window in my hotel room, looking out at the beach. As directed by Her Highness, my balls were shaved and I was wearing a pair of pink pantyhose. I was not allowed to watch TV, listen to music, read a book, or use my iPad. Instead, I was to look out the window and focus on the upcoming activities that would, as she said, change my life and forever bind me to Queen Felicia.

It wasn't until well after 3:00 that my phone rang. Luckily, it was on the floor beside me and, as instructed, I was able to answer it on the third ring.

"Hello"

"Is this my newest slut?"

"Yes your Highness."

"Are you prepared for what's to come? This is your last chance to back out. Your last chance to preserve a shred of your dignity. Are you prepared to sacrifice all that to become my subject, my property?"

"Yes Queen Felicia, I am prepared to fulfill my destiny."

"Well then put on a pair of shorts, a tank top, and your flip flops and meet me in the lobby. Be quick about it. I need you to carry my bags to my room."

"I'll be right there your Highness."

And so the training, and the humiliation began. As I stepped out of the elevator I spotted her, a vision of loveliness, talking to the concierge. I realized that everyone in the crowded lobby, including my Queen and the concierge would see me wearing my pink pantyhose.

"Ah, here he is now. He's not much but he'll do for now. Perhaps we could meet for a drink when you're off duty?"

Handing her a card with his phone number, the tall, muscular, black concierge said, "It would be my pleasure Felicia."

Turning towards me, "Pick up my bags and wait for my by the elevator."

"Yes, Mam."

While I waited at the elevator, my Queen finished her conversation. When she approached me, she had a questioning look on her face.

"Do you have a copy of today's Wall Street Journal."

"No mam."

"Well go and get me a copy from the gift shop."

Before I turned to comply with her command, she grabbed hold of my chin with her forefinger and thumb and then spat on my face. I wasn't the only person shocked by this; there were plenty of witnesses in the lobby who saw what took place.

"Now give me the room key my whore. I'll meet you upstairs when you've completed your task."

I handed her the key and watched as she disappeared into the elevator. As I grabbed her bags and turned towards the gift shop I knew better than to wipe my face. Between my outfit and my saliva drenched face, I got plenty of disconcerted looks from everyone but I didn't care. I would soon be serving my Queen, suffering for her pleasure, and perhaps even granted the honor of worshipping her Highness.

With her bags, and her Wall Street Journal, in hand I knocked on her room door. Felicia opened the door but not before checking that I had not wiped my face. A smile crossed her face as she saw that I still proudly wore her spit.

Upon entering her room I was ordered to unpack her bags. The first one contained her clothes for the weekend, including lovely lingerie, stockings, high heeled shoes, etc. Her items were either hung in the closet or placed in the drawers of the dresser.

The contents of the second bag were placed on top of the dresser, on full view for all who entered the room. There were three canes, two crops, one humbler, several sets of leather cuffs (which were attached to the corner of one of the the room's two beds), one ball gag, one dildo gag, three butt plugs, and lastly an unopened box containing a CB-6000.

"Strip down to your pantyhose and lie down spread eagled on the bed."

In no time at all I found myself staring up at the ceiling as she secured my wrists and ankles to the cuffs at each of the bed's corners.

"Before we get ready for tonight's dinner, I need to check how close a shave you gave yourself. While I'm doing that, you'll be given the honor of tongue bathing my asshole. It's not particularly clean but that should not matter to you. Before long you'll be serving as not only my toilet but my toilet paper as well."

Her lovely ass descended upon my face before I could respond. My senses were assaulted by a heady, tangy aroma but she was otherwise clean. Not sure if I was relieved or disappointed.

After 5 minutes of lapping at and probing the royal asshole, Queen Felicia arose and declared herself pleased with both my tongue and my shaving. She released me, flipped me over, reattached the restraints, placed the ball gag in my mouth, pulled off my pantyhose, and placed my balls in the humbler.

"Now slave, before you bathe me and help me get dressed, you need to be caned. This is for the sins you have committed or even considered. You'll also be caned so that you'll be a wee bit uncomfortable tonight.

"Let's see now, what would be appropriate? How 20 strokes on each ass cheek and 25 strokes on the balls?"

If I could've spoken I would've pled for mercy but as I couldn't I prepared as best I could for the pain I knew was coming. To put it mildly, Felicia was quite adept with the cane; she did indeed deliver the pain.

Removing the humbler, her Highness began to pay attention to my asshole. She lubed me up and began to insert her fingers. Stepping away from me, she picked up the larger butt plug and said:

"This butt plug will stretch you, will hurt you. But if things go as planned you'll be thanking me later tonight."

Through my gag I mumbled my appreciation but as the plug worked its way up my ass, I wondered, and dreaded, what kind of monster would be used on me that would make me thankful for the invader that currently was filling me to capacity.

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