WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2019 by The Technician.
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I really should have listened to Dwayne. He told me to stay away from her. He told me she was way out of my league. He told me she was dangerous. But I didn’t believe him. Besides, everyone picked on me and teased me and I thought this was one opportunity to tease back.
I guess I’ve always been teased. When you are smaller than all the other boys and don’t have a lot of body hair, you are going to get teased. Gym class was bad in grade school and worse in high school. By my senior year, it was torture. All of the other boys had developed bigger chests and body hair while I remained slim and almost hairless.
I was eighteen years old for God’s sake! I should look like a man, not like a slightly bigger little kid. And to make matters worse, I narrowed at the waist. I don’t mean that I narrowed at the waist like a man with a big chest and narrow hips, I mean I narrowed AT the waist. If I were forced to take a shower by the coaches, the other boys would whistle at me and make curvy signs with their hands in the air.
Everyone thought I was gay– which I wasn’t– I mean which I’m not. I really am attracted to women. The problem is that women aren’t attracted to me... at all. I’ve been slapped, laughed at, called a dork or a wimp, and turned down in the worst possible ways. And there is a worst possible way. The very worst possible way to be turned down by a girl is for her to hold her lips tightly together so she doesn’t laugh and then look at me sadly just before she turns and walks away.
That look says it all. They don’t have to say anything. It is obvious in their eyes that they despise me... No, they pity me. I’m like a broken doll that they will never play with again, ready to be thrown in a box with all the other broken toys and put away in the attic.
Dwayne protected me as much as he could my first year at college. He and I lived on the same floor of the dorm. I had a private room because I kept complaining about my roommates picking on me. One of them sort of apologized and told me that he didn’t know why he picked on me. He had never done that to others, but there was just something about me that brought it out in him... and nine other guys.
I once asked Dwayne why he protected me and he said that I reminded him of his big brother and what he had been like. Nobody in the dorm knew he had a big brother. He never talked about him. It sounded like he was referring to his brother in the past tense, so I asked him if his brother were still alive. He gave me an almost blank look and answered, “Sort of.” I never asked about him again.
It was right after Christmas break when I first saw the Ice Queen on campus. I had heard about her and her entourage, but this was the first time I actually saw her. Her real name is Twila Newberry, but everyone calls her TN– pronounced Teen. Behind her back, many of the men– and some of the coeds– call her other things, including “The Ice Queen.”
As she walked through the crowd in the main quad, I noticed that Dwayne and his friends, even though they made a lot of jokes about Teen, seemed to steer clear of her and the five young women who scampered along behind her like some sort of royal court.
As she approached me in the crowd that day, I couldn’t help but think, “Queen Teen.” She walked like royalty and the crowd parted in front of her to let her and her entourage glide past. After that day, she seemed to be everywhere on campus... or at least, she seemed to be where I was a lot of the time. Often she and her court would push past me in the crowd at a game or in the rush into or out of one of the buildings just before or after a class.
When that would happen, she would always stare at me for just a second as she passed by. It was a very scary stare– like a mongoose would give a small bird just before devouring it. Her almost black eyes seemed to bore right through me even if I didn’t meet her stare. I was always shaking slightly with fear long before the first of the girls of her court walked past me. The girls were different. They didn’t scare me. Most of them just smiled slightly at me as they walked past.
Maybe the Ice Queen’s court didn’t scare me because they were so much different from her. They didn’t have her black eyes... or her black skin. All of them were very fair-skinned... almost as pale as me. And they all had light eyes. They weren’t all blue-eyed blondes, but even if they were brown-eyed, it was a very light brown with traces of green around the edges. And their hair was all the same shade as mine or lighter.
The Queen’s court– I liked to think of them as her royal attendants or whatever– The Queen’s court always dressed exactly alike in light pink skirts with white pullover blouses, and if needed, a slightly darker pink jacket with white fluffy, fur-like cuffs. Unlike the Queen’s skirt– or pants– their skirts were really short so if there was any wind at all the frilly cloth would blow up and you could see their white satin panties underneath. Maybe they weren’t actually satin, but they were very shiny... and very, very snug. Maybe they were a special kind of spandex or whatever because they formed themselves exactly to the shape of the girls’ cute little butts.
Except for the fact that they were girls, the princesses reminded me a lot of me. A couple times as they were going past, I thought that if I were a girl, I would probably still be a nerd, but I could at least be in the Queen’s court. I know that they are just subservient lackeys, but at least they belong somewhere. And the Queen is very protective of them. I once saw some half-drunk wanna-be jock at a football game try to grab one of the princess’ asses. She squeaked in fear when a giant hand grabbed a handful of her satin panties. Queen Teen immediately spun the pervy guy around and decked him with a quick uppercut and a high kick to the chest. Everyone watched as the Queen glared down at him as he stared up at her from the floor.
“Don’t touch my girls.” she said in a slow and deep voice. As she said it, the entire crowd melted back away from her so that she and the drunk were alone together in the middle of a ten-foot empty circle. She continued to glare down at him as he shook his head and tried to understand what had just happened. After a few moments, she said in an even stronger voice, “Leave!”
The drunk immediately stumbled to his feet and staggered away. She then looked at her princesses who were huddled together at the edge of the circle and said, “Let’s go, girls. Keep it pretty.” All five of the girls suddenly smiled brightly and fell in line behind their Queen.
As they were leaving, she brushed past me and looked down at me with those piercing eyes. “I could protect you, too, Charlene,” she said almost sweetly. This time, the girls all gave me big smiles as they passed by.
It wasn’t until after they had disappeared into the crowd that I realized she had called me Charlene. My name is Charles and I usually go by Chuck. At first I thought that I had maybe just misunderstood her. But she was very clear. She called me Charlene... and when she said it she smiled at me. It was the first time she had done that. And her eyes were different. I can’t say exactly how they were different this time, but they didn’t go right through me like they normally did. Instead they seemed to reach out and pull me towards her. It took all my will power to not fall in line behind the five girls in her court.
I told Dwayne what happened and he almost exploded. He was trying hard not to scream in anger, but his voice kept getting louder as he said, “I told you! Do NOT go near that woman. I warned Robert and he ignored me... and I’m warning you. Don’t you dare ignore me! Don’t go near that woman!.. Stay away from her or you will end up just like Bobbie.”
As Dwayne sat there shaking and almost crying, I promised that I would put an end to whatever it was that was happening between me and the Ice Queen. Looking back on my vast experience as a dork who regularly got his face slapped for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, I knew that bringing up something embarrassing or offensive really turns girls off. I may not know how to get them turned on, but boy, oh boy, do I know how to get a girl turned off. I was sure I could get the Ice Queen to hate me– or pity me– like all the other girls on campus.
The next time Queen Teen was walking through the crowd with her entourage, I somehow summoned the courage to actually meet her stare as she passed. She paused and I said, “Why to they call you the Ice Queen? Do you have ice in your heart?.. or is it in your body?”
I expected her to explode and slap my face or call me some dirty name, but she didn’t. Instead, she laughed. She looked pretty when she laughed. Her hair is somewhat short, and stays tightly curled close to her head, but she keeps part of the top and back longer and in dreadlocks sort of like an Afro-mullet. When she laughed, the dreadlocks around the back were bouncing with her laughter.
“Charlene,” she said with a smile, “it is because most men only get things half right.” She stroked my face and said, “It is true that I am a Queen, but I’m not made of ice.” She smiled at me again and said, “Come with me and my girls for Spring Break and I will show you how the ice melts.” After another soft smile, she said, “It will change your life forever.”
I should have yelled out, “No way!” and run for my life. Even without Dwayne’s warnings, this felt like it was a trap of some sort. Something was very wrong. After all, I was being me and I was talking to a girl and she was being nice rather than slapping me or screaming insults at me. My mind was saying frantically, “Run, run, run,” but I didn’t run. Instead I said shakily, “When? Where?”
She stroked my face again and said softly, “A car will pick you up in front of your dorm tomorrow morning at nine o’clock, sharp.”
She started to walk on, but I touched her shoulder and asked, “What should I bring?” I didn’t know where we would be going so I wasn’t sure what to pack.
She stared at me– no through me– and laughed. “You can pack everything you need in a thimble,” she said, still laughing. Then she added firmly, “I will provide everything else.”
The next morning at exactly nine o’clock, a black limousine stopped in front of my dorm. I wasn’t sure it was for me until the front passenger window rolled down and Queen Teen said firmly, “Get in or walk away. This is your last chance to escape.”
Escape! I nearly wet myself in fear, but somehow I willed myself to reach for the doorhandle on the back door. It slid open before I could touch it. Inside the seats were arranged in a big C facing the door. The five princesses were seated there, three on one end and two on the other. They motioned to the empty seat between them and I stepped inside and sat down.
I heard Teen say, “Full darkness in the back, Carla,” and the tint in all of the windows around us darkened until it was as if they were solid panels.
I started to ask, “Is this your car, Teen?” but as soon as I began to speak, the other girls looked at me in fright and held their fingers to their mouths indicating I should be silent.
“It’s OK, my sugarbabies,” Teen said lightly. “Charlene is new and hasn’t been trained yet.”
She then looked at me and said, “I will answer your question, but in the future you will not speak– to me or anyone else– unless I have given you permission to speak. Is that understood?”
“Y... yes...” I sputtered back. The five girls again looked at me with wide eyes. One of them was signaling by rolling her hands that I should move along... or maybe add something to what I said.
“You may speak, Bobbie,” Teen said softly, but firmly.
The girl closest to me, who had been silently urging me to add something, replied, “Thank you for letting this humble slut speak, Mistress Teen.”
She then looked at me with very wide eyes. The lightbulb lit or the penny dropped or whatever and suddenly I knew what I should have said. “This humble slut understands,” I said quickly. Then I added “Queen Teen.”
The five girls were aghast, and I trembled in fear, but again Teen laughed. “Charlene, you may call me Queen Teen. In fact, I insist that you call me Queen rather than Mistress.” Her voice became very harsh as she said, “You other sluts will continue to call me Mistress, but to Charlene, I am Queen.”
She took a deep breath and looked directly at me over the back of the front seat. “To answer your question, Charlene, yes, this is one of my vehicles. I also have planes, and yachts and other vehicles you can’t even dream of for my personal use. I am very rich. My family has been wealthy for centuries.”
My face must have shown my surprise because she looked at me angrily. “You do not believe me because I am black?!” she said sharply. “You think my grandparents or great-grandparents were slaves, don’t you?!”
“No, my Queen,” I stammered, “I... I... I... I just didn’t think that you might be rich. It has nothing to do with you being black. To me you are just a regular woman... I mean you’re a Queen to me, but you aren’t anything special... I mean...”
“If you are trying to get out of the hole,” Teen said slowly, “you need to quit digging.”
“Yes, Mistress... I mean my Queen, I will shut up,” I said looking around at the five girls who were all trying to silently shush me.
When it finally got quiet, Teen said, “Panel up,” and a very dark glass panel slid into place between the front seats and where we– the five girls and I– were sitting. I turned to ask Bobbie something, but she immediately put her finger to her lips indicating I should be silent. So, I leaned back against the seat and soon fell asleep.
I don’t know how long I was asleep, but when I awoke, I was lying almost on top of Bobbie. She had fallen over more or less into my lap and I had then leaned over onto her. Her short skirt had ridden up and her panties were visible. This close I could tell that they were a Spandex of some sort and were VERY tight on her bottom. It must have been her time of month because there was apparently a somewhat thick pad held in place between her legs that was outlined slightly in the panties.
I almost reached up to stroke her leg, but before I could do so, the door suddenly opened and Teen’s voice called out, “All aboard who’s going aboard!”
All five girls snapped awake and nearly jumped out of the car. I quickly followed them and fell in line with them as they lined up on the dock. It took me a second to realize we were standing on a dock and a few seconds more to guess that the large boat behind us was Queen Teen’s yacht. She strode up the gangway with all six of us following her.
As soon as she got on deck, she stopped and turned to face us. The five girls stood almost at attention and I tried to stand correctly next to them. “Cruise attire,” Teen said loudly and all five girls started taking off their clothes. They seemed to work in unison as they first stepped out of their shoes and then slid their skirts to the ground. Next they pulled their blouses up over their heads. Then the right arm went over the shoulder and the left arm went behind the back as they released their bras and let them drop on the ground. That left them standing there in just their white, shiny panties.
“You, too, Charlene,” Queen Teen said and I began fumbling with my clothes.
“I... I... I...” I stammered and Teen laughed softly. “I know,” she said shaking her head. “You don’t wear any underwear. Don’t worry, we will provide what you need.”
One of her crewmen... or maybe I should say crewwomen because they were all women. One of the crewwomen came running up with what looked like the same kind of panties that the five girls were wearing.
“Bobbie,” Teen said softly, “you show Charlene how to put it on.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Bobbie immediately replied and lowered her panties to her ankles and then stepped out of them. I almost gasped as a small dick dropped down between her legs.
“Come stand next to me,” she said, and I did. Step into your panties so they are around your ankles and put the shaping pad in place.
I wasn’t sure what a shaping pad was, but since there was a thick pad with the panties, it wasn’t too hard to figure out.
“Now here is the hard part,” Bobbie said. “You have to make sure that you don’t get turned on at all so you are completely soft. Then you slowly push your testicles...” She was showing me at the same time she was talking. “You slowly push your testicles back into your groin.” I was following her and was surprised that my nuts seemed to go back up inside me– or at least up under my skin– with no effort.
“Then,” she continued, “you fold little Charlene back under yourself so it is resting between your ass cheeks.” I again followed her instructions.
“Hold things in place with one hand and pull your panties up with the other,” she said. “Once you get used to this, you can do it with your panties almost in place.”
I bent over to pull up my panties and my prick fell out from between my legs. I pulled the panties almost all the way up and started over. This time I was able to pull them fully in place without anything slipping out.
“There,” my Queen said brightly, “doesn’t that feel natural?”
She paused and then said, “You are now one of my six. My royal courtesans are complete.” She paused again and then added, “Don’t worry about the breasts, Charlene. They will grow out in about three months. It takes the hormone pills a little while to act.”
I looked at her and pointed to my mouth. “Yes, you may speak,” she said with a chuckle.
“Will it hurt?” I asked.
“Only if you get pregnant,” one of the crewwomen said loudly and then started laughing. The rest of the crew laughed with her.
Teen turned to the crew and said sternly, “You have tasks to complete. We cast off in ten minutes.”
“Yes, my Queen,” the crewwoman answered and hurried to help bring in the gangway.
I must have looked confused because Teen smiled at me and said, “I told you I was a Queen... and that I was rich. Now you can believe both.”
“Yes, my Queen,” I answered as I bowed low to her. I don’t know why I did it, it just seemed the natural thing to do.
“Tonight we will have the mating ceremony,” Teen said. “Then you will all officially be Princesses of the Motherland. Until then you are to go to your room and rest.”
Our room was a huge cabin with two double beds and a third bed that had to be at least king-sized. The big bed stuck out slightly from the side of the ship as if it were on a balcony. There were huge windows all around the top portion of the bed. All six of us ended up crowding onto the bed and watching out the windows as we cast off and set sail. Then we sort of just collapsed into a large pile and went to sleep.
***
Around five o’clock there was a loud knocking at the door. Teri got up and sleepily staggered across the floor to answer it. “We have been sent to prepare you,” a gruff voice said and a dozen crewwomen entered the room. “We will start with Charlene,” the voice continued once they were all in the room. One of the women, slightly larger than the others, was speaking.
I felt an odd pain in my groin and looked down at my panties. The twelve crewwomen were all naked and little Charlie was trying to stand up, but couldn’t because he was trapped between my ass cheeks by the shaping pad.
“Remove your panties,” the crewwoman said as I stepped forward. “All of you,” she added as I lowered the panties to the ground. I glanced around and as I expected, small dicks came into view on each of the girls.
One of the crewwomen placed a really large towel over the floor and directed me to stand in the middle of it with my legs spread. ‘This first cream might tingle a little,” she said as she put on a pair of blue gloves and began smearing a thick, white cream all over my body. I was surprised when she also spread it on my face as if it were a shaving cream.
“This will remove all hair,” she said calmly as she carefully spread the cream. As she was rubbing a generous amount over my balls and between my legs, she added, “The second cream will prevent the hair from regrowing for at least three months. The third cream is permanent.”
Two of the girls started whimpering. I could see tears streaming down their faces. Their eyes were wide with fear.
“Don’t be afraid,” the larger crewwoman said. “You only have to go through this once, and the rest of you have already had the first two creams.”
That didn’t seem to placate the two girls. Their whimpering stopped, but the tears continued to flow.
The crewwoman was right. The first cream tingled... or maybe I should say it burned like hell, but in any case, by the time it was carefully scraped from my body by a crewwoman with what looked like a plastic straight razor, I was completely hairless.
The second cream was rubbed into my skin like a lotion. It didn’t hurt at all. It was actually almost soothing because it reduced the severe tingling and burning created by the first cream. The third cream didn’t burn at all. In fact, it caused my skin to feel very cold, almost as if someone had rubbed ice on it. After the crewwoman said, “All finished,” I reached down and rubbed the skin between my legs and on my ball sack with the tips of my fingers. Then I reached back and felt my ass. It was truly as smooth as a baby’s bottom.
I stood there and watched as they applied the third cream to the other five girls. The two who had been whimpering sniffled a little as it was first applied, but stopped once they realized that it wasn’t going to be painful.
“Now for a shower,” the crewwoman said and pulled me by the hand toward a door on one wall of the room. I expected there to be a small bathroom with a tiny shower stall. The bathroom was small, but larger than I expected and the shower stall was huge– at least twice as big as the bathroom itself.
The crewwoman turned a knob on the wall and water began spraying from at least a dozen showerheads mounted on the ceiling and walls of the shower area. After making sure that the water was at the desired temperature, she stepped into the downpour and pulled me in with her.
A bottle on the wall provided shampoo and soon my hair was all soaped up. “Keep your eyes closed tight,” the crewwoman said as the water suddenly stopped. Then I felt her rubbing something into my skin. I would later find out it was a body wash which was also contained in a bottle on the wall of the shower room. After she had thoroughly rubbed the body wash all over my body with her hands, the water again turned on and the crewwoman made sure that everything was rinsed from my body and my hair.
After she rubbed me dry with a towel, the crewwoman pulled me back into the stateroom. As I was pulled out of the bathroom, Teri was being pulled in and Bobbie was waiting in line with the others.
“There isn’t much we can do with your hair,” the crewwoman said, “at least not until it grows longer.” She then used a hair dryer to comb and style it. “You will have to do this on your own from now on,” she said firmly as she finished with my hair. “You will also have to do your own makeup, so you might as well start practicing.”
It was a little late to try to back out, so I took a deep breath and said, “What do I do?”
“First you put on your cruise panties,” she said firmly, “then you sit over at the makeup table.”
The cruise panties were almost like the regular panties except they were a little shinier and a LOT tighter. In addition, there was no shaping pad, so my folded over prick and pushed back balls looked like a really weird camel toe.
Once I was at the makeup table, the crewwoman showed me how to use the eyebrow pencil to fill in and shape my eyebrows, and how to use the mascara and eyeliner. She wanted me to create a blue smokey effect with the eye shadow, but I think I put things on too thick and ended up with big blue circles around my eyes. “Don’t worry,” she said, “it will get better as you practice.” She then wiped everything off with makeup remover and put things on correctly. “I will do you for tonight because it is so important,” she said, “but from now on, you are on your own.”
I murmured “Thank you,” and checked myself in the mirror. My eyes– actually my whole face– looked terrific. My eyes were a very light shadow blue and my lips were a bright red with a slightly darker lip liner.
“Be careful with the mascara,” the crewwoman warned. “It isn’t the permanent type and will run if it gets wet.” She chuckled and said, “Our Queen wants to see when you are crying from the pain or humiliation.”
“I don’t think I want to go through with this,” I said softly.
“Aren’t you a little late to be backing out?” a familiar voice said from the doorway to the room. Queen Teen stepped into the stateroom and walked over to stand in front of me. She, too, like all of the crewwomen, was now totally naked. She had a beautiful body with full, but pert breasts and a carefully trimmed triangle of tightly-curled black hair between her legs. Her nipples and areola were somehow even darker than her already black skin.
“Charlene,” she said carefully, “if you truly want to leave, I will have the tender lowered and take you back to the mainland. If you want to stay, you will always have the right to stop everything and leave with no consequences. All you need do is say your man name three times, “Charles, Charles, Charles,” and I will let you go.
“No, my Queen,” I answered, “your slut Charlene desires to stay.”
Teen reached out and stroked my chest and said, “Welcome, Charlene. You will be the prime mate in the ceremony tonight.”
Had I known what the prime mate was supposed to do, I might have called out my name and gone home right then. ... No I wouldn’t have. I wouldn’t have called out my man name because I knew– I felt deep down within me– that I was where I belonged. I was one of The Ice Queen’s royal sluts.
We were far enough from land that we could no longer see the lights. But we were evidently still in shallow enough water to drop anchor and stop for awhile. When the six of us were called from our cabin, it was night and we were already riding at anchor.
A large, circular bed had been set up in the center of the open deck at the aft of the ship. Teen was standing next to the bed with another woman who looked even bigger and scarier than Teen did. Teen looked at the six of us standing in line and said, “This is Bubblejuice– at least that’s what it sounded like. She is my mating Mistress at Arms.” Her voice got much harsher and more firm as she said, “You will call her Mistress and obey her every command.”
She gestured at the crew standing around watching and said, “All other crewwomen, you will call Ma’am. Is that understood?”
This time I knew how to say it and quickly replied, “Yes, my Queen, this humble slut understands.”
Teen nodded at Bubblejuice and then lay back on the bed. Teen had a muscular, but shapely body. Bubblejuice had muscles that jumped up out of her skin with her slightest movement. There was NO fat at all on her body. I was thinking that if I ever fucked her, I would get sucked up inside her and never be found again.
I think the other five sluts were thinking the same thing– or maybe something similar, but less X-rated. In any case, they seemed to be hanging back and cringing as much as I was. We all stood huddled together while Bubblejuice pulled four thick bands of leather out from under the bed. I was still trying to figure out what they were for when she wrapped one of them around Teen’s arm. I could see then that there was a special cuff on the end of the restraint. There was a similar, but slightly bigger cuff on the restraint for Teen’s legs. After attaching all four cuffs, Bubblejuice walked around the bed tightening the restraints until Teen was bound in a very taut X on the bed.
Bubblejuice then turned to me and said, “I am Bubblejuice, the first mate of this floating vessel which has brought us from the Motherland.” She stopped and frowned slightly. Then she said, “You find my name funny, Charlene?”
The other girls immediately stepped a little ways away from me. I made several attempts to speak but only got out squeaks or grunts. Then I finally said, “I’m sorry, Mistress, but yes, your name sounds funny to me.”
“Why?” Bubblejuice asked. “Is it not the name of a high quality wine in your country?”
“Oh!” I blurted out. “Bubblejuice... Champagne... the wine that bubbles is called Champagne.” I quickly looked around and Bobbie was giving me the rolling hands thing again. I quickly added, “... Mistress Champagne.”
“Thank you for correcting our computer’s translation to your language,” she said with a smile. “My name is Champagne, but you will continue to call me just Mistress.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I quickly replied. “This humble slut understands.”
“Now,” Champagne said firmly, “I will explain what you are about to do... and why. You will notice that there are only women on this ship and that all of us are black. And since that word is applied to many different people in your country, I want to be totally clear. We are black, not brown or chocolate or almost white. We are black. We are black because no white man has diluted the purity of our blood.”
She chuckled deeply. That chuckle combined with her smile made me fear her even more. She viewed herself as so much above us that we were but ignorant animals to her.
“And we are rich,” she said firmly, “because no man– black, white, green, or yellow– has ever added his genetic impurities to our race. We are a purely female tribe.”
She paused to look around and lifted up her eyes slightly like she was remembering something very special. “About four hundred years ago,” she continued, “the Great Mother was born. When she came of age, she was somehow able to give birth without the benefit of a man. All of her daughters were identical to her, and all of them also could give birth without a man. Through the centuries, minor differences have appeared among the daughters and granddaughters, but we are all pure descendants of the Great Mother.”
She laughed lightly and then smiled again at us. “That does not mean,” she said, “that men were not needed.” Her smile became almost a leer at this point. “Unless a potential mother is greatly aroused– as in fucked almost out of her mind– her egg, though complete, cannot be released.” She cocked her head and said, “Some of our scientists have said that it might even be that the male sperm must be present even though it is not accepted by the egg.”
She was now staring at all of us. “That is where you come in,” she said strongly. “None of you could possibly give the Queen the kind of fucking that she needs. So, one of you, the Prime Mate, will excite the Queen with your tongue. While you are doing that, the other five will be fucking you in the ass.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know why we do it that way, but since we really don’t understand how this can all take place, we stick to the ancient rituals passed down from mother to daughter.
“After all five have put their seed in you, and after the Mistress at Arms– that’s me– has determined that the Queen is sufficiently aroused, you will be allowed to deposit your sperm in her birthing canal.”
The six of us stood there silently looking at her until she said loudly, “Sluts! Strip for action!”
We all immediately dropped our panties to the ground. I was slightly aroused by the thought of eventually fucking the Queen. A couple of the girls were fully erect, probably at the thought of fucking me in the ass.
Mistress Champagne directed me to lay more or less between my Queen’s legs on the bed. After moving me around a little bit, I was almost kneeling on the ground with my waist bent over the edge of the mattress. My chest was nearly flat on the bed; my hands were on the outside of my Queen’s hips; and my mouth– with the help of Mistress Champagne’s hands– was pressed tightly against my Queen’s cunt.
“Start lapping, slut!” Mistress Champagne said harshly. “And keep lapping until I tell you to stop.”
I’d never ever gone down on a girl before, but my tongue seemed to know what to do, and I could tell by the sounds Teen was making whether or not I was where I should be. I lapped between her pussy lips for a while and then when her clit started swelling, I accidentally lapped across that. Her clit was a slightly different color from the rest of her pussy lips. It also tasted different than the rest of her slit. I really don’t know why that is, but once I had given it a couple of licks, I knew that was where I had to spend at least part of my time. I also sucked on it just a little and Teen began bucking her hips up into my face.
Meanwhile, I heard Mistress Champagne behind me saying, “We need to get you loosened up a little bit.”
I looked over at her and immediately wished I hadn’t. She was holding what looked like a rhinoceros horn– at least that’s the way it was shaped. It was probably plastic, but I couldn’t tell for sure because she was smearing some kind of shiny lube all over it. I flinched as she squirted more of the lube between my asscheeks right on my rosebud. Then I flinched again as I felt that horn pushing against my back door.
The horn was cold, but it was relatively small on the end and it was very slippery. I grunted once or twice as she pushed it a little ways in and out of my ass. I could feel myself stretching as she pushed it farther and farther in. It was almost starting to feel good when she suddenly pulled it all the way out and said brightly, “Bobbie, you’re first.”
I felt someone moving up to stand between my legs. Then the bed compressed slightly as hands pushed down on the mattress on either side of my chest. Right after that, Bobbie’s prick slid into my ass. I really expected it to hurt or for it to be harder for him to push into me, but evidently that rhino horn had me stretched out pretty good.
Mistress Champagne tapped me on the back of the head and said, “Keep focused on your task, slut.”
I went back to licking, lapping, and sucking while Bobbie thrust in and out of my ass. She didn’t seem to last very long. As soon as she squirted into me, she pulled out and stepped away. I don’t know who took her place, but soon a different prick was pumping into my ass. She lasted a little longer, but like Bobbie, pulled out as soon as she had squirted into me. I didn’t really feel anything go into me, but I could feel her muscles tighten and her prick twitch when she spurted.
I lost count of the girls fucking me in the ass so I’m not sure if they repeated or went at me just once. I was too concerned with making my Queen go higher and higher and higher to pay any attention to that. She was bucking up into my face harder and harder now and it was becoming difficult to keep my mouth on her cunt. Finally Mistress Champagne said, “It’s time,” and started releasing the straps on Queen Teen’s arms and legs.
As soon as she was free, she let out a loud, deep groan and clamped her legs around my head. She bounced up and down a couple of times and then twisted on the bed. It went on long enough so that I went from worrying that she might break my neck to worrying that she would suffocate me. I felt Mistress Champagne slap Teen lightly on her thigh and suddenly my Queen’s legs opened.
“She needs your sperm inside her,” Mistress Champagne said, nearly picking me up and centering me over Teen’s cunt. She pushed down on my lower back and I slid easily inside. I tried to start thrusting, but she was thrusting up so hard that all I could do was ride on top of her and try not to get bounced all the way off. In just a few minutes I spurted and seconds later my Queen let out a blood-curdling yell and fell back onto the bed moaning softly.
I wasn’t sure what to do, but Mistress Champagne grabbed me by the hips, lifted me off of Teen, and set me standing on the floor. “The drone sluts are excused,” she said firmly, “but you will each service one of the crewwomen tonight and then each day until the time of mating is over.”
I looked over at Bobbie and Teri to see if they knew what that meant, but they looked as confused as I did. Mistress Champagne, however, turned me by the shoulder so that I was facing her and said, “That means tonight you’re with me... and for the next six nights, you’ll be with a different crewwoman.”
She reached down and sort of stroked my prick and said, “I assume he has another round in him.” Then she lifted my chin and said, “And I’ve never seen a drone’s tongue go limp before it could finish the job.”
She pulled me down a passageway toward what was apparently her room... or at least, it was our room for the night. As she lay back on the bed, she said, “I’m not a Queen so I don’t have to be restrained.” She smiled at me and said, “Don’t worry, despite my strength, I won’t kill you when I lose control. Just remember to pat my thigh if you can’t breath.”
It was pretty obvious what I was supposed to do, so I got down between her legs and started nuzzling in. She smelled different than Teen... not bad, just different. Actually she had a nice odor and taste. It took a while to get her bucking and humping up against my face and then a while longer before she started wailing and wrapping her legs around my head.
I waited as long as I could before slapping her thigh to remind her to let me breath. When she opened her legs, she reached down and pulled me up on top of her so that I could enter her. With her, I was doing almost as much thrusting as she was, but she was much, much stronger than me and I still had to work to keep from getting bucked off. When I finally spurted, she wailed again and wrapped her legs around my waist. Then she pulled me in really tight against her cunt and started shaking and wailing.
When we had both calmed down a little, she said softly, “You may leave.”
I answered “Yes, Ma’am,” but still stood at the end of her bed. After a moment or so, she said, “Do you have a question?”
I pointed to my mouth and she said, “You may speak.”
“Thank you, Ma’am, for letting this humble slut speak,” I replied. Then I asked, “Why me?”
She chuckled and smiled at me and then said, “Because you are very white and very weak.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
She explained, “Although the women of our tribe reproduce without the genetic material of a man, it is possible that a strong man might somehow impregnate one of us and ruin what the Great Mother has created.” She paused and then said, “That is why we always choose males who are weak. I believe the term in your world is a Sissy.”
I started to speak, but she held up her hand and I immediately closed my mouth. “The reason we choose someone who is so white is so that, should the impossible occur, it will be apparent in the offspring even if the child looks very much like her mother.”
She paused to look at me and then continued, “No, we don’t kill the child. We merely arrange for her– or him– to grow up in your land as what you would consider to be normal men or women.”
After a moment of silence, she said, “Now go to your common room. You sluts will have a lot to talk about tonight, and...” She bobbed her head from side to side as she smiled, “... who knows, you may want to become closer to your new slutmates.”
***
I became a lot closer to the other five sluts that night. In fact, I almost wore out little Charlene. And Billie’s little Billie nearly wore me out. I’m still not gay. Men don’t really interest me, but we sluts aren’t really men anymore. We are Royal Drones... whatever that actually means.
When Spring Break ended, people on campus noticed that Queen Teen had added another princess to her court, but no one recognized who it was. They never saw me as a boy, so they can’t remember who I am as a girl. I am just one more smiling bimbo in a short skirt and shiny white panties.
We sluts try to smile at everyone as we walk through the crowds. Almost everyone smiles back... except Dwayne. He recognizes me just like he recognized his big brother who is now Bobbie. He scowls at us and sometimes yells out foul names as we walk past. I wish there were some way I could sit down and talk to him. Then I would tell him that I... and Bobbie... are very happy. We are where we should be, in the court of– and under the protection of– the Ice Queen.
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END OF STORY
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