Amanda Adams becomes My Queen Ch. 10

"Diaper time now... I'm thinking for you, Buttercup," You see the delicious disappointment I can't keep off my face, "I only have one nappy left until we go to the store and I don't want it to go to waste... the last 'hello kitty'... plus the effect that putting you in diapers has on your attitude is so sweet... so tame...and docile...I had no idea it would turn me on this much- to reduce you in this way! My only real concern is that you might just grow to love them, and constantly changing your diaper is not an idea that really intrigues me."

Unbidden, Deborah chimes in, "I wouldn't mind changing her diaper every once in awhile- that's if they're not... you know... messy- that's just gross." She's giggling again. She hands us each a cold bottled water from her mini-fridge, "Drink up..." she winks.

"Oh, Ms. Debbie, such a typical millennial- don't want to get your pretty hands dirty changing a diaper... Don't worry, I think her buttplug would help keep that kind of mess... contained," you joke, "But she should still have to ask permission to remove her buttplug and that means she'd have to ask permission to go 'tinky'- I kinda like that."

It's nice to see you both in such high spirits.

"As for my Prince Albert there," you sigh, "I think we better not try to stuff him back in his cage just yet, I'm thinking that the pain that is soon headed your way will be quite enough to keep you chaste- for the time being, Buttercup... Besides, now you'll also be wearing your new collar which also has a little lock to knock about and constantly remind you: whose you are."

Ms. Debora follows the line of the leash from your hand to my throat. I wonder if that's covetousness that I see in her eyes. I like whatever sparkle it is that I'm seeing in them.

"To make sure our 'little friend' heals properly, make sure you move the jewelry around every few hours... slide it back and forth a bit... rotate it like a spit in the fire... Do it even if it hurts- especially when you wake up in the middle of the night. It's super important," Ms. Deborah addresses both of us.

She is so cute when she's being authoritative.

"Just keep in mind that the pain you'll be feeling soon is a good indication that you're healing properly... And I know Ms. Amanda will ensure that you get the best of care while you're recovering- constantly checking you out, closely inspecting you down there, and soothing you with anti-septic creams and what not..."

"I'll be making sure that our Prince Albert stays very clean and doesn't go spelunking in any dark caverns where he runs the risk of catching an infection. Good thing we didn't also pierce your tongue... But oh! There's an idea for another time perhaps! Oh yes... I'll be making sure you're tongue gets plenty of exercise over the next few weeks- that you can count on."

My heart sinks at the realization that I probably wont be having any type of orgasm for... What? Three weeks? That seems like a really, really, impossibly long time considering that I typically ejaculate at least once a day. This sad realization already begins to register as a deep blue ache in my balls.

"Please don't hesitate to call me if anything strange starts happening," Ms Debbie offers helpfully.

"How sweet of you, Debbie! Oh I'll be calling you over for a house-call no matter what... And when you come over you'd also better be ready to have your cute, pink, little asshole reamed- I mean... gently and lovingly stretched... I'll make you love the strange feeling of it... I want to make you have your first ass-gasm. In the mean time, might I just suggest that you buy yourself a buttplug like the one you just inserted into Buttercup and start prepping your's a bit. Start gradually stretching it. Every muscle needs stretching and exercise to stay healthy."

Ms. Deborah goes blush-silent again.

"Buttercup, let's get you back in a diaper so you can get dressed, we've already monopolized too much of Ms. Debbie's time today- I'm sure. Ms. Debbie, would you care to do the honors?" You hand the light pink diaper to her.

Her face lights up as if she was hoping you'd say that, "Sure!"

"Ok, Buttercup, lie down on your back on the table there... Be good for Ms. Debbie...No fussing," you tease me needlessly- I'm already at full tilt humiliation- and arousal.

As I move to the table you keep hold of my leash and move with me- walking me like the pet that I've become. I marvel at how little effort it takes for you to toy with my mind. I don't know much about bondage dominance and sadomasochism. I imagine I'm probably the first person on earth to learn about this lifestyle in such a close-up, first-hand way without studying it down to the minute detail ahead of time - without lusting after it long before manifesting it. My vague notion of "the lifestyle" was: some lonely, over-the-hill, pot-bellied man paying some meth-addicted Russian prostitute to tie him to a saw horse and flog him for $200/hour. I certainly never thought BDSM was anything that I'd be into. How wrong I was!

Your style couldn't be further from my old, sad, condescending misconceptions. You are totally mysterious to me... So distant from the stereotype- yet so effortlessly dominant. I can't tell what motivates you but it must be something like pure desire... I know it certainly isn't money... I'm not paying you- quite the contrary- closer to the truth is that you've purchased me. I hope you'll tell me soon more about yourself. I want to know you- everything about you. I want to know what you were like growing up. Where did you live? Were you the first born? Do you have siblings? Was your family religious? How did you lose your virginity? Have you tamed other men besides me?

All these questions swirling through my head, and yet, I feel like I can't just out and ask any of them. I must wait for an appropriate time- maybe when you're not in full-force Queen mode? I certainly can't put you on the spot in front of one of your subordinates- NO. So far, I've made it my policy to swallow my curiosity about you and your past. I know a time will soon come when I have a chance to interview you properly. Even better would be if you'd hold me close in your bed- post-coitus- or at least after you've cum- and whisper all your important memories to me- take me into your privy chamber- your holy of holies- make me your trusted confidant. Maybe you'd even ask me some personal questions about my own story. Then- after an hour of soul-baring, our breathing would synchronize, and we'd drift blissfully off to sleep together- dreaming of eachother. Even though you're very successfully making me your slave, I still believe such intimacy between us is somehow possible.

Ms. Deborah has the diaper un-folded and ready to slide under me. I raise my hips and my still-bleeding, fully-erect cock up to show my willingness to help get this over-with. I feel the back of her hand against my tailbone. I wish the tables would magically turn. I wish it was me putting the diaper over her powdery naked pussy instead, but this is how you want it. With the diaper, she presses presses my cock flat against my abdomen, and tapes it down securely. Such a smile she's giving me- I'm glad I could make her smile that way once more before we go.

Seeing her so elevated by you today makes me wonder... It's given me a little glimpse behind your curtain. Deborah has both dignity and class- she's definitely not a voluntary masochist- and neither was I. I still have plenty of confidence- self- awareness... So does she. And maybe we're the kind of people YOU need. You could easily have your pick of any self-advertised masochist on the internet- but that's not what you're after. You were looking specifically for somebody like me. I had to have just the right flavor of dignity before you could ever enjoy removing it from me.

Before meeting you, I was going about my life completely oblivious to my deep urge to be humiliated. I was unaware of my need to serve- to find happiness in sexual subjugation to a superior woman. Well...today has been quite the awakening. My Pandora's box hasn't only been opened, it's been demolished- no way to close it now. Anybody who doubt's it can simply look at the locked collar around my neck, the surgical steel bolt through my penis, or the purple welts cris-crossing my butt cheeks.

Ms. Deborah gently rubs my thigh grazing her fingertips against the edge of my new diaper.

You unclasp the leash from my collar and pass me my dress. You walk over and peek through the blinds.

"Looks like it's stopped raining," you say cheerily enough, "I'm ready to get you home and relax a little. We've had such a busy day. Wouldn't you say, Buttercup?"

"Yeah. It's been quite busy... to say the least, my Queen." I awkwardly pull the dress over my head and re-adjust my wig.

"Your new collar doesn't really go with your outfit," you lament.

"Oh- I don't know," says Ms. Debbie, "I really think it really looks fine."

"I think we'll soon need to purchase a variety of colors- white- pink- lavender... I can't have my Buttercup looking thrown-together!"

Ms. Deborah once again bends over and unlocks the front entryway. I hope she finds an excuse to visit us sooner than later. I'll be fantasizing about her a lot- I know about myself.

"It was really nice meeting you, and a pleasure...um... working with you too. I think I'll be seeing you again- very soon- I hope," she says taking my hand in both of hers.

"I'm sure I'll be thinking about you until then too," I tell the truth.

You roll your eyes at us and usher me out the door, but I can tell you're not genuinely upset by the little spark between Ms. Debbie and I. You're secure in my loyalty and growing love for you.

As I pass in front of you, you quickly reattach your leash to my collar. I panic... What if somebody sees us walking down the street this way?! What if they snap a photo?! What if I become an Internet meme?! I'm feeling that increasingly familiar quease in my guts as we take the first few steps together. I'm nervously scanning the horizon. I want to walk quickly, but if I don't match your pace- I'll be straining at the leash like a bad dog.

"Buttercup, what are you so jumpy about?!" You ask as if you don't know.

"I'm very nervous somebody will see you walking me on a leash, my Queen," I mutter, "I'm feeling extremely self-conscious."

"Well... Think about this: it's a much bigger risk for me... I'm much more likely than you to be recognized...and judged- or exposed."

You're right of course.

***

Like most of my fears, nothing comes of it. Nobody spots us- that I could see, and we're soon safely back at your jeep in the parking structure.

"You'd better get used to things like being collared and leashed in public, Buttercup," you admonish me but not harshly, "It's important that you learn to trust my judgment in all matters of public appearance... Don't you think I know that you're worried about your reputation?"

"Yeah, I guess I am... my Queen."

"Did it excite you- at all- to have me escort you in that way on a public street- you in drag? A strong gust of wind could have come up and exposed your diaper... Anybody could have seen you..."

"Yes it did excite me- a little."

You seem to let it pass that I've just failed to address you as 'my Queen' but I'm sure that it registered with you.

"Wasn't it...thrilling?" You whisper.

"Yes, my Queen."

You open the jeep door for me, "Get in the car."

* * *

"I need to stop by the store to get some diapers and other things, would you like to come in with me- or stay in the car?"

I think for a long second before answering your question with a question.

"Why do I get the feeling that this is a kind of test, my Queen?"

"It's not a test. I promise, my little Buttercup... Not this time. I was just letting you know you had the option to accompany me into the store if you want to... I heard people like you can use either bathroom in there now."

I can't help but crack a smile at that.

"If it's all the same to you, my Queen, I'd prefer to wait in the car this time- bathroom choice not withstanding."

"Alright then I'll see you in a few minutes- be good while I'm gone..." You say pulling the handbrake. I watch you leave- of course. Before you walk through the automatic doors you turn to me and wave.

Buying diapers... I imagine the check-out girl's face as I plop down a package of adult-sized diapers on the conveyor.

"Maybe they're for his aging mother or something...?" I hope she'd think. But I'd offer her no explanation- just a nervous smile.

I look out my tinted window at the busy parking lot. All around me, just outside, people are busy unloading red shopping carts into big hatch-back SUVs and mini-vans... They all seem so dreary and mundane.

I see an attractive soccer mom with two blonde kids in-tow. I wonder if she's ever spanked a man simply for her own sexual pleasure? I wonder if she ever wanted to control a man's breath with her pussy? I wonder if she's ever given somebody and enema for a punishment? I wonder if she has her husband locked in chastity at this very moment- wearing the key around her neck- under her blouse?

Hmmmm...not likely.

***

A silver, sporty two-door pulls into the empty spot next to me. The driver gets out- she's another hot girl- and I feel like she's much too close not to see me. She does see me; and I recognize her immediately. It's Ms. Deborah. She's as shocked as I am.

When she's sure that it's me, she motions for me to roll down the window. It's a power window and you have the keys. I unlock my door and open it a crack.

"I don't have the keys," I laugh - turning awkwardly- not getting out, "What are you doing here?"

"This is where I buy groceries!"

"Of course," I blush.

"What? You didn't feel like going in?"

"Huh! No- not this time," I chuckle.

She leans in close, raises her eyebrow, and asks ironically, "Need me to check your diaper for you?"

"Kuhhhuhh... yeah... but not right at the moment."

"You know I'm going to remember today... probably for the rest of my life... If I wasn't so scared of Ms. Amanda, I'd consider trying to rescue you right now- or would it be more like kidnapping?"

"Hmmm... that sounds intriguing, I mean I'm flattered but..."

"You're better off staying right where you are, Honey... We'd wouldn't be able to have the kind of fun I'd want to have anyway... I mean with you're dick all...you know..."

"I do know." Does she have any idea how tempting she is? But I've made my bed with Ms. Amanda and I must to sleep in it. Who am I kidding? I want to sleep in it.

"Well take care of yourself... I'll be by to visit you soon- I promise." She winks at me a very sexy wink and smiles big as she walks away.

Mmmmmm. Her butt is so perfect. I shiver at the thought that I might get to see you... give her... measure for measure.

***

I see you emerge from the store pushing a red cart. In the cart, I can already see unmistakably a large rectangular package of diapers. You smile proudly in my direction. there must be more than 20 diapers in that package and I already know you intend to make me use every single one of them- at least. I wonder if you have some kind of 'mommy fetish?' Beautiful, independent, successful, single career woman- no children- you have no outlet for your acute mothering instincts... Perhaps you intend to focus them all on me and to make up for lost time.

In an instant I can see us lying on your king-size bed, my head is at your breast, your nipple is in my mouth, and you're feeding me your sweet warm milk- looking down into my eyes lovingly.

OK... now who's the one with the weird mommy fetish?

She opens the hatchback and quickly unloads the diapers and a few other bags into the rear of the jeep, "Were you good while I was gone, Buttercup?"

"Of course I was, my Queen, just sat here watching the people."

Oh no...What if you bumped into Ms. Debbie in there? Should I confess that I saw her and talked to her? What's the right thing to do? Would you be more mad about me talking to her?... Or if I didn't tell you I talked to her?

"Let's get home and have some dinner now. I don't know about you but I'm starving!" she says- taking the driver's seat.

"My Queen," I begin, "Did you see Ms. Debbie in the store?"

"No?! Why?"

"Well- Huhhhhuhhh- quite the coincidence- she just happened to park right next to us... and -of course- she recognized me... and she said hello before she went in..."

You could answer me, but you just stare ahead. You're driving in silence- not smiling- not speaking.

"Is something the matter, my Queen?"

You still don't answer me. I wince again inside feeling that I should have just kept this little matter to myself. My instincts served me wrong. I shouldn't have brought this up. I've worried you needlessly.

"Buttercup... I appreciate your honesty... so... just by coincidence, you happened to bump into Debbie- cute, perfect, little Ms. Deborah- in the parking lot, and had a private conversation with her... completely un-supervised?"

I wait patiently for you to complete your thought, but I can already sense you're not happy with me- with this...

"She- with her stupid hipster hair-do- pulls up right next to you..."

"My Queen... we just said 'Hi' it would have been rude of me to just snub her... we talked for less than thirty seconds and then she went in the store...it was nothing."

"Look, Buttercup, I'm not upset that you said 'Hi' to Ms. Debbie. What I am concerned about is you're attitude...I thought we made a lot of progress today, now I'm seeing that we have a long way still to go... You're wayward... You're too high-spirited... I've humiliated you and yet it seems I've failed to humble you."

I don't have any reply to this registry of disappointment you've just laid down.

"You probably think its cute to just flirt with pretty little Debbie... picture her fucking my ass...picture her changing your diaper... the thing is: I don't want you thinking about her at all. You belong to me. You're my Buttercup. I'm the one who negotiated for your services! I'm the one who has designed a training plan for you... You're my pet... I'm your key-holder. Who fitted you with that collar locked around your neck right now?"

The light ahead turns yellow, then red, but you're still moving much too fast and accelerating. You run the red light and I'm getting more nervous by the minute.

"My Queen, I am devoted to serving you. It makes me feel sick to think that I've disappointed you... That's the furthest thing from my intention!"

"You just want to fuck Ms. Debbie! I can tell!"

"No! That's not true, I mean she's very... attractive... but she's not you, my Queen..."

"Just stop with your fucking 'my queen' bullshit!"

Now I have no idea how to proceed. I feel utterly defeated and ridiculous with my pierced dick- sitting in my pathetic 'hello kitty' diaper. Absurdity has taken on a new meaning for me. Is this how our relationship is going to end?

A horrible sadness floods into my chest and I feel like asking you to pull over so I can vomit. I'm sickened by myself and by your sincere change of mood. I'm feeling trapped inside this clown-version you've turned me into and so self-disgusted. How could I have let you pull me in like this...so far into this?!

"Pull over." I mutter darkly.

"What?!"

"I said 'pull over!'"

"Buttercup..." you say not braking.

"Please pull over, Amanda."

I feel the car shed its speed. The hashed lines dividing the lanes slow their approach and you ease onto the gravel beside the road.

When we've come to a complete stop you stare at me with piercing blue eyes. Your wordless question is loud in my ears.

"Look," I explain, "I love you, but more than that, I worship you. As far as I'm concerned, you're the only woman in the world for me. I don't feel the same way about any other woman- even Ms. Debbie.