What is more than a better way to worship the Scarlet Queen than to pen your own poetry and stories for her? That is the greatest honour she can ever receive. It is not anything else, but your heart that she desires. For there is nothing significant in this world, all will be erased with time… except our sentiments…. that will be immortalised on this wall. To fall deeper in submission to your Queen, you can pledge your support to her by becoming her patreon minion and access her private world.
The Worship Wall
The sentiments of knights and minions who have responded to the Dark Queen Risque and Princess Cheryl.
Your eyes are two mirrors
deep and mysterious
with a feline and voluptuous charm.
Your mouth is fleshy and swollen
as red as strawberries and cherries
holding out your words
whispered with sensuality.
Your skin is velvety
like the peach blossoms
so precious and virginal.
Your legs are idols to be worshipped
so soft and silky,
thighs on which the tired warrior would like to let his head rest
to caress them with his cheeks
to pour on them his thirsty lips.
Only a Goddess can be a symbol of femininity
Only a Goddess can give a man dreams and fairy-tale visions.
Only a Goddess may be what you are
And at your feet I place my words
as if they were a carpet.
Inspired in part by "Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions" I grew up in the first dimension, in the flatlands under the reign of Queen poka. Like here, in flatland, we have two sexes, circles, or woman, and squares, men. From our perspective, the woman are awesome, when they rotate, their length never changes. The are as constant as the horizon. They drive some of us squares crazy with desire with their sensous lines. We cannot really see their lovely round shapes in the first dimension, but in our minds eye, they are very, very, sexy. From the time i was just little square, i would carry girls geometry books. I just couldn't see how any circle could ever be attracted to an ugly square. There was one particular circle that completely captivated me. i was just like her little octagon, what we call puppies. I followed her everywhere, doing everything she commanded. By the time I entered my 12th year of age, I had been her little octagon for 2 full years. All the other circles knew I was her octagon and often teased me but i was happy - for a time. The problem is circles and octagons cannot have a relationship no more than a Woman would be have a relationship with a puppy. And so the day inevitably came when my circle took a lover. As I stood there beside them, my outer perimeter shaking nervously, the love of my life, my darling circle, motioned me to kneel. She made me kneel like the insignificant octagon I had become. There were only two choices, run or submit. I had such a crush, i could never run. All I could do was kneel. Kneel like the insignificant ocatagon I was. I wanted to cry. All I could do was kneel. if this is what my darling circle wanted me to be, then i would swallow my pride and become the best octagon i could be. I acted tough and did lots of squarely things to counter my octagon feelings inside but most of the circles in our area knew I was just a submissive octagon. After we parted, it seemed like every circle I dated wanted to treat me as an octagon. I often wondered if there was some heavenly force guiding my vector. Instead of fighting it, i embraced it. I became a very small and submissive square. i made sure to always open doors for circles and let them step ahead of me in the grocery lines. I made an effort to be exceptionally polite and go out of my way to make every circle feel special. It should not have come as a surprise that the relationships I would develop with other circles would also be mostly be C/o (Circle/octagaon). At the time, because it just felt naturally, I didn't see my own submission, but obviously the circles could tell. In my later years I joined the Queen's army and become a spy for Queen Poka. Queen Poka had learned through underground source of a new weapon of mass submission called curves. It was believed no square, in any dimension, could resist them. Queen Poka spies reported the Scarlet Queen had some of the most effective curves. Queen Poka therefore decided to kidnap the Scarlet Queen and steal her curves. In order to do this, she would need to send an agent to the third dimenions to do some further reconnaisance. After weeks of research our scientist developed a way to transport me to the third dimension using a 3d printer. The plan was for me to infiltrate the Scarlet Queen's realm and hide out in vanilla space and observe until the time was right. Upon arriving in the third dimension I immediately located the Scarlet Queen but I was unable to remain hidden. Three dimensional women are even more beautiful than one dimension ones and I was immediately mesmerized by her curves. Damn. As I watched her videos I became even more transformed. I began to understand that being an insignificant minion was a most meaningful existence. It reminded me of my days as an octagon. Her curves had seduced and corrupted me! I decided to defect to the Dark Queen's side and become her loyal, but unworthy and insignificant minion. That is all any minion could ever really wish for. If you listen carefully, there is great wisdom in everything says. Minions, like octagons, can never be good enough for our Queen, all we can do is check our desire and get down upon our needs and look upon our Queen's curves. Becoming her pet octagon, or minion, and serving the Queen is all i can ever hope for. When one's fate or vector has been decided, it can never change, in any dimension. Unworthy Minion
Two pure marble columns
Sinuous and slender…
They have been chiselled and polished by a sculptor from the unrivaled experience.
Two lithe and perverse tigers
who are sprawling languidly,
There is nothing more beautiful
Nothing more sublime in the world
Than the legs of my Queen.
Only to see the beautiful legs of my Queen
My heart starts to beat furiously
Excited, in love!
The Divine legs of my Queen are a wonderful gift.
It is a gift to look at her bare legs
Admire her little bare feet, resembling two white doves.
If you’d only give to your slave the permission to place his thirsty lips
on your bare feet, so slim and tapered.
If you’d only want to let me adore and worship your Goddess feet.
Then for me it would be the ecstasy!
Though you would hit me with your pretty feet, I would consider it a gesture of love!
And if you’d whip me, perfidiously, letting me lick your lovable feet
Letting me caress your wonderful legs
Then it would be the supreme pleasure!
Because nothing will ever give me the joy you give me with your lovely legs.
Your pure porcelain legs
Your precious legs, just like the most rare jade.
Legs from the glowing skin, like pearls!
If I could ever caress your sublime legs
I would find out that your skin is so smooth and silky that nothing in the world can ever be said to be so smooth!
Not even the rarest among the rarest flowers in the mountains of Tibet!
Thank you, my Goddess,
for the endless joy you give me!
For the next several weeks, I was in a constant state of arousal thinking about Her. The rational part of my brain told me to stop, this was crazy, how could I debase myself like this? The horny part of my brain kept dreaming about Her, fantasizing about Her, worshipping Her. My Goddess Queen was infinitely more beautiful, alluring, breathtaking and intimidating in person than in Her videos. And if I had become a mindless minion by simply watching Her videos, what chance did I stand to resist Her power up close and personal?
I wondered constantly whether I would ever see Her again. I wondered about how far I would let Her take control of me, push me beyond boundaries that no other woman had ever made me cross, excite me, humiliate me, own me, body and mind. The thought of serving Her, pleasing Her, giving in to Her every whim and desire, made me hard dozens of times a day. If there was a civil war in my brain, it was clear that the horny side was crushing the rational side. The rational side would briefly take control in the hour or so after I could no longer control myself and had shot my wad while fantasizing about worshipping my Dark Queen’s Goddess feet. But as life slowly returned to my horny cock, and it began to swell again as I thought about Her, the rational side was banished again to the depths of my brain.
I couldn’t stand the thought of never meeting Her again. I sent Her an email to thank Her for letting me bow before Her a few weeks ago in my office, and begged Her for a chance to see Her again. The next day She wrote back to me, angrily reminding me that minions are not allowed to make requests of their Queen. As my punishment, She ordered me to confess my sins by describing my deepest fantasies about Mabel to Her. She told me not to leave anything out, for She would know and I would be banished from Her world if I did.
She had me and I knew it. I was in a no-win situation. If I didn’t tell my Queen everything, She would banish me, which was not an option for me. But if I did tell Her, would She use it against me? Odds are that She would, but I had no choice. I didn’t know what Mabel had already told Her in the weeks that they had been working together. I had to obey my Queen unconditionally. So I wrote to Her and described how my unrequited love for Mabel had pushed me to the point where I longed to kneel before my Dark Queen and be humiliated just for a chance to kiss Her beautiful toes.
Why the foot fetish? Why would I give up my dignity and my free will, just to serve my Dark Queen? It all started with my beautiful coworker Mabel. I had been secretly in love with her for years. But our relationship was like Cristophe and Scarlet in The Red Hourglass. Mabel was the perfect combination of pretty and sexy, just like Cheryl and Risque. She dated men who were far more attractive than me, so I knew in my heart that I had no chance with her. We became good friends over the years, and I couldn’t believe I could be so close to someone as beautiful, sweet and perfect as her. But never close enough to touch her, and it became more and more difficult to keep my love for her hidden. We shared secrets with each other, trusted each other, and being near her was the best part of my workday. But we never spent time together outside the office. On the one hand, I didn’t want to risk spoiling our friendship, but on the other hand, I needed her to know how deeply, madly in love with her I was.
So I lost myself in a fantasy world. I could never expect to be able to date her or win her heart. She had more sex appeal in her tiny toes than I did in my whole body, so I started to shape my fantasies around her toes and eventually her feet. Her beautiful feet must get very sweaty and tired after a few hours in those sexy stilettos that she wore around the office. I vowed I would find a way to make myself useful to her by offering to massage the balls of her feet, clean the sweat from between her perfect toes with my tongue, and lick her tender tootsies as long as it took for the pain from wearing the high heels to wash away from her glorious body.
One day, when she was between relationships and hurting a bit, I took the plunge. I told her that I was in love with her, and asked her if she would ever consider going out with me. She politely rejected me, telling me that she didn’t think of me that way. I was crushed, but over the next several weeks kept asking her, because once I let my feelings be known, I could no longer hide them. It began to strain our friendship, and she finally told me to cease and desist and never speak of this again. I asked for one chance to get down on my knees and massage and kiss her feet and tell her I loved her, so that she would always remember my love for her. I was flatly rejected.
I was devastated and went into depression. I realized that nice guys really do finish last. After a lifetime of playing by the rules, I decided that I had to find out what would happen if I crossed those lines I had never imagined someone like me would cross. I began to sneak into Mabel’s office at night after everyone had gone home, and kiss and smell the high heels that she had worn that day. Eventually I started rubbing my cock inside her shoes, realizing that this was as close as I would ever get to her. I would cum in her heels, and wipe up all but a little bit so she wouldn’t notice. It would turn me on to watch her walking around the office the next day, knowing that the remnants of my cum was soaking into the soles of her feet. I couldn’t let go of my fantasies about her, and it was driving me crazy.
To ease the pain of not being able to reach out and touch Mabel, I turned to the internet to satisfy my fantasies, and stumbled across the Scarlet Queen. I followed Her videos on YouTube in anonymity for many months, dreaming that my Mabel would one day allow me to worship her the way I did the Scarlet Queen, as a minion if not her friend and lover.
I could never be a bad boy that would attract the ladies, but I could swallow my pride and vow to serve a Dark Queen who got off on punishing and humiliating her subjects. I felt worthless, and it followed that I was destined to be nothing more than a lowly minion. So I took the plunge, began commenting on Her videos, joined Her patreon, and let Her take control of my mind to forget about my love for Mabel. My love for Mabel began to transform into a lust for Risque.
My Risque fantasies started with the same foot worship fantasies I had for Mabel. I changed my Patreon avatar to a close up photo of my Goddess Queen’s feet, cropped from a beautiful barefoot photo of Cheryl on thescarletqueen.com. I let myself dream that my utter, humiliating submission to Her would make up for my lack of sex appeal and arouse Her nonetheless. I fantasized that in Her state of mild arousal, She would let my fingers and tongue wander beyond Her toes, to Her tender arches, past Her heels and ankles, and upward so that I could feel the breathtaking softness of the smooth skin of her calves. And if She let me go that far, was it a stretch that I could wander further to gently massage the paradise of Her dancer’s thighs?
I fantasized about feeling heat pulsating from her little girl hidden safely and securely between Her upper thighs. Feeling the heat would be my signal to press up against her wet panties, licking the wetness and pressing down as hard as I could with my tongue to try to be one with Her heat. At this point in my fantasy I would get back down on my knees and pledge myself completely and utterly to be Her minion servant, and do anything – anything – She ever asked me to do if I could just have a taste of Her wetness and make her cum with my tongue. She would smile Her evil smile, lick Her lips, remove Her dripping wet panties, and let me drink in Her glorious juices as I licked around the walls of Her little girl, eventually finding Her clit and sucking for all I was worth. As I felt Her shuddering from Her climax, I’d wake up from my own wet dream, covered in my own cum.
In my own delusional, aroused state, I somehow thought that by worshipping Her feet, I could work my way up to the paradise between Her legs. This is how I had achieved business success, starting at the bottom of the corporate ladder and working my way up to more senior positions by dedicating myself to the Company. It would work the same way with a beautiful woman, right? In my delusional state of arousal, I convinced myself that it would. When I’d cum from the excitement, my rational mind would allow me to realize that it was folly. But the horny part of my brain would soon take control, and rationality would be banished again.
Thus it was for months, back and forth between fantasy and reality. Until the day She walked into my office, and my life changed forever.
She taught me quickly that pleasure had a much higher price tag than I had ever imagined. In my fantasies, it was all about pleasure, with simple platitudes about serving her that I’d never actually have to follow through on. But if I ever saw Her again after the day She left me curled up in a naked minion ball on the floor in my office, I now began to realize that the price tag would be very high, very real, and would stretch me well beyond the boundaries of any fantasy I had ever had.
She had seized complete control of my mind and body, and I was powerless to fight back. My lust for Her unique combination of sweetness, sensuality and seduction was overwhelming. I longed to find out how far She would take me and how far I would be willing to go to follow Her.
My office phone rang. It was Mabel. My mind turned to mush as I heard her voice telling me that Scarlet Risque was in her office and wanted me to join them…
My Submission To My Beautiful Dark Queen Risque Years ago before i met you’ my dark beautiful queen’ i have been going through some tough times in my life which build up some more negative emotions inside me and parts of me feels lost but ever since i watched your videos and met you’ i felt the urge to want to be submissive to you and want to know out of curiosity how would i feel to become submissive to a dominant, beautiful, lovely, powerful, mistress type of woman like yourself especially because my life is boring and meaningless. Being submissive to you is an honor and a privilege and your pleasure. I just can’t get enough of your charming instruction videos and when you command me to slap myself’ i know my pain is your pleasure and i have no say in your presence. A part of me feels good inside for your pleasure whenever am submissive to you which i thank you for allowing me to be your Minion/knight. Being submissive to you is one of THE best things to ever happen to me.
I had decided not to go to her any more, to forget about her. But this time her appeal was more magical than ever: what dark forces had that she-devil evoked?
So it was that I found myself, once more in HER place… after I had thought to leave those memories behind me, once again I was in her dark realm, in her gloomy, enticing castle.
The door opened. She was there, lying languidly, her most beautiful legs naked to her hips… Her legs that hypnotized me: the Goddess of all sins …
She had an accurate, appealing make-up: she was a hellish beauty. No man could resist her.
“Come to me, my minion …” the Sorceress of Sexual Desire whispered, softly.
Her subtle hands caressed her taut and white calves, her imperial thighs: she used her legs to make me belong to her, to make me her succubus …
“What a beautiful legs! …” I thought to myself. “… I will never see legs so beautiful in all my miserable life! What are you doing to me, you shameless paramour? … Why are you playing with my uncontrollable cravings? … ”
She picked up a tiger cub, that was curled up at her gracious feet, and placed it next to her.
Then she began to caress him, softly, lovingly, with sensuality … Her caresses became increasingly intimate, treacherous …
She bent down to kiss him, as I saw the animal that caressed her bare and smooth thighs with his fur.
I admired those beautiful bare feet … those incomparable legs that were making me lose my head … Once again those legs were driving me crazy: I belonged to her … To her only! And I wanted to tell her that I was her personal belonging, her minion!
I knelt at her feet, while she was still stroking her pet, with delight, slowly moving her bare and seductive legs …
“My Queen! …” I uttered with a muffled voice. “Let me place my hands on your legs! … Let me kiss and lick your bare feet with devotion! … Let this disgraceful man show you how much he loves you! Let me show you how much I desire you, above any other woman! And there are no other women for me! Only you! You my most Beautiful Queen! … ”
And, although she would have laughed. Although she would have sent me away with a touch of her bare feet, I knew would have had an orgasm out of it…
Sincerely, your heart fan of Russia. I kiss your beautiful legs!
By Russian Minion
The people of Vanilla are truly abominable perverts. Everyone knows that.
Every child in the Scarlet Kingdom has at some time been terrified of threats that they would be sent away to Vanilla if they didn’t finish their homework. Every teenager has enjoyed furtive jokes about the Vanillians’ sickening tastes while their teacher’s back was turned. Every Goddess-fearing minion is horrified at their lack of respect for proper religious practices.
Strangely, the people of Vanilla appear to have similar opinions about us and the situation along the frontier is far from friendly .
Although the Scarlet Kingdom usually maintains a tense peace with Vanilla, there are occasional wars and so the border city of Rufus is defended by immense walls and a strong garrison to keep the heathen Vanillians at bay. Although we don’t often see eye-to-eye with the Knights, one thing that always unites the two sides is our shared contempt for the outrageous barbarians who live beyond the border.
And so it was that when he Knights had reported a Vanillian raiding party moving down the main highway towards Vermillion having bypassed Rufus, the town council had gladly agreed to a temporary alliance in order to punish the filthy devils and drive them back to their depraved and uncultured home. Defending the honour of the Scarlet Kingdom from these heathens was far more important than squabbles about the nature of the Queen.
As a show of unity, the combined force of knights and minions marched under the former flag of the kingdom which had prevailed before the ascent of Queen Risqué to absolute power. I was proud to take my place in that force to defend my homeland and my Queen. I was just a new recruit in those days, but I was determined to do my duty for Her Majesty.
Along with my minion comrades we set up a defensive line while the knights continued into the forest. When the vile Vanillians arrived along the Rufus highway and started to assault our position, all we needed was hold our ground until the knights arrived on the scene to spring the trap. When they came thundering out of the forest and charged the Vanillians, the rancid invaders scattered in panic. They hadn’t expected the minions and knights to cooperate but now found themselves caught between our pikes and the knights’ lances, with no chance of victory. The forces of Vanilla were crushed.
After the short battle, we split into small groups to hunt down the survivors of the Vanillian raiding party. I found myself in a party along with three of my minion comrades and two knights. Although I was suspicious of our allies at first, we had a shared purpose and worked well as a unit together, searching methodically for any signs of Vanilla filth. Then, as we entered a small clearing, there he was right in front of us, stumbling about lost.
We pounced. Pinning the Vanillian to the ground along with two of my comrades, I was overwhelmed by hatred and rage.
“Thought you can come into our glorious Queen Risqué’s territory and get away with it, did you? Thought you were going to steal our precious idols and take them back to your disgusting cesspit of a country? Filthy bastards, well we’re going to teach you a thing or two now. Just consider yourself lucky that Her Majesty isn’t here right now, or things would be a lot more painful for you.” Seeing the fear in his face, a wicked grin flashed across mine: “of course, we’ll try our best to deal with you in a way that She would approve…”
“Stop that at once!” shouted one of the knights, urgently. I paused and looked up at his earnest face – “You should know better. He’s our prisoner now. Only the priestesses may judge the accused and sentence the guilty.”
Of course, I knew he was right. Although there was nothing I would have loved more than to see the rancid barbarian’s head rolling on the ground, we had to do things properly and only the priestesses had the authority to decide his fate.
“You’re right,” I said quietly, breathing deeply and trying to calm myself “… let’s take him back to Vermillion.”
– – – – – – – – – – – – –
Priestess Amalasuntha looked bemused as we dragged the chained captive before her. A dignified but lively woman in her 50s with her brown hair tied back, Amalasuntha was the senior Priestess of Vermillion and was wearing the scarlet robes that symbolised her authority.
“How unusual, boys! A real, live specimen from Vanilla. This will be interesting… I suppose you’d better summon Zenobia and Matilda.”
As well as leading the townspeople in the worship of the Goddess Risque, the three priestesses are also responsible for justice in the towns of the Scarlet Kingdom. This time it was Zenobia’s turn to prosecute the accused and call for the harshest possible punishment, while Matilda would be making the case for mercy.
A couple of days later, we convened in the Chamber of Justice at the side of the Scarlet Temple. The prisoner hadn’t been able or willing to say much in his defence; we didn’t have much sympathy and although we could understand the Vanilla language, their customs and values were so different from ours that it was hard to see things from his point of view.
I don’t remember the fine details of the case. I was too busy admiring Zenobia in her splendid black robes, and anyway we all knew that the man was guilty. Matilda, wearing the white robes for the day, had a tough task arguing for leniency, but she was arguing that as a prisoner of war he wasn’t individually responsible for the outrages but just a pawn in the schemes of his rulers.
“Well the facts of the case are quite clear” pronounced Amalasuntha after hearing her junior colleagues’ cases. The Vanillian creature was caught in the territory of Queen Risque, clearly with hostile intentions. However, it would be a waste of the opportunity if we were simply to execute him now. So instead, we shall try some experiments.”
A hush fell over the gathered townspeople as they waited to hear what kind of experiment the scarlet-clad priestess had in mind.
“Let him experience the Ecstasy; he shall feel the pain and know the pleasure. Let us observe the effect on the Vanilla creature’s mind and then review the case.”
– – – – – – – – – – – – –
No two people experience the Ecstasy in exactly the same way, and it’s a little different every time. But from my own experience I can tell you, it is an intense and highly addictive experience for a minion. At least once every week I go to the Scarlet Temple in Vermillion to kneel before the magnificent statue of the Goddess Risque and receive visions and messages from Her.
What would it do to the mind of a Vanillian? To experience the Ecstasy once and then be sent back to the desolate plains of Vanilla away from Queen Risque’s wise and benevolent rule and with no chance to feel the pain-pleasure again – that would be true torment. I’d almost feel sorry for the wretch if that was what Amalasuntha had planned for him.
We led the prisoner down into the temple vault. We were going to leave him alone with the idols; they would work their magic, one way or another. As we closed and barred the door behind him, a sadistic smirk was on priestess Zenobia’s lips and a glint of excitement was in her eyes. I always thought Zenobia was great. But even so, I couldn’t stop wondering what was going to happen to the man from Vanilla…
Everybody around knew about the existence in the Palace of the room where Queen Risqué did not allow anyone to enter unless he/she offered Her a gift. i had seen Her from far distance only but Her face, Her eyes, Her look had put me already in the place i felt natural to accept: Her minion, a low form of live only desiring to serve and obey its Queen.
i managed, after months of saving (drinking water, quitting smoking and drinking, always cooking simple meals, never ordering food, always walking or in public transport, never the subway, it was more expensive, nor a taxi or a cab), to buy for Her some jewelry, a rose made of gold and some little diamonds sparkling within the petals. Then, with my gift, i headed to the Palace.
i was told very seriously if i really wanted to enter the room, that i was going to be free inside. But that no one ever came out. i shivered, said yes, and the doors opened. i entered the room, eyes to the floor. i could see a glimpse of Her, on a couch, being worshiped by other slaves that cared for Her every second. i could not avoid to stare at Her shoes, heeled, opened in the front just enough to let two toes outside. i felt a desire of kissing those toes, immediately followed by the thought i was only a minion, hence i would never probably get that. So i focused on the soles of the shoes and could not stop the impelling desire of keeping them clean for Her with my tongue and thank Her for that honour.
-What is it that you want? i heard Her say.
My knees broke down, i fall on my knees and my a trembling voice i said:
-i would really honoured if You were so generous to accept my humble gift for Your Highness.
i approached on my knees, eyes to the floor, until i was next to Her.
-Leave it on the table and wait face to the floor, legs and arms spread. And press hard Your face to the wall until Your nose hurts.
It was not me, i was a machine, a minion that does not think, only follow instructions. i found myself in the position and began pressing my face to the wall.
i could hear, from where i was, pieces of conversation. She put someone to open my gift. She was pleased. She commented with the others (minions? knights? worshipers? lovers?) how much was She pleased with the gift. then i heard steps approaching. Hell, may that be She, i remember thinking.
indeed it was. She came closer. She whispered so i could feel the air from Her mouth in my neck.
-i let you worship me and this is how you thank me, disobeying me?
i was astonished. What had i done wrong? Then i realized my nose was not pressing anymore to the wall. And then, i don’t know how, i began hitting the wall with my nose, enough to make me bleed a little.
-Now you learn, Her Highness said. i stopped the hitting and changed to pressing my nose to the wall, hard, i really wanted the wall to destroy my nose for being such a bad minion.
She laughed. She and other people i don’t know who they were.
-If i was to give You the honour of being one of my slaves, what tasks would you choose?
The answer came quickly as a lighting from my mouth:
-your shoe cleaning slave, Your highness.
Silence. Could feel Her breath on my neck again.
-Unfortunately for you that position has been taken already. Actually, i don’t see why i should need another minion.
My heart was shaking. Oh my Queen…. i felt like crying… i was going to be send away from Her.
-Your Highness, please, i know i don’t deserve it but… i promise You won’t notice me, i will be invisible… let me stay here, Your Highness, please, please, please… i was crying and pressing harder my face to the wall. i felt no pain as my only desire was to be used by that Superior form of being that was Her Highness the Queen Risqué. Let me be an object useful to You, my Queen, i beg You.
Her laughs after i said that i think could be heard from the village.
-Ok, ok, if that’s what You want… You are free to go, remember…. Her voice on my neck.
-i am no longer free, i live for serving You, obeying You, Your Highness.
-Good. Her voice had change. Sounded so strict right now. You will a table for my flowers, You will stay all time on hands and knees. I will put a tray on Your back and flowers on the tray. Be careful not to drop then. Now get on Your new position.
And there i was, trying no to move, on my hands and knees , only a base for Her flowers. Feeling the pain in my bones. Everytime felt like falling i had to say: Please Your Highness give me some punishment to teach me to be a better base for your flowers. And She always was so generous to listen to my demand and put someone (ma? woman?), never Her, to remove the tray with flowers and spank me hard, really hard, while i counted every time allowed and thanked Her for i was bad and indeed needed a punishment. i was released from time to time from my obligations to get some rest, somewhere in a dark room, then brought back to my position. i could always hear sometimes even see how She spend time with other slaves, minions or knights. From time to time, She would come where i was, pet my head and let me kiss Her shoes or even Her feet if She removed the shoes. And everytime i cried tears full of gratitude.
The Dark Queen grows in more power with your worship, in return, she will create better quality videos and writings for minions to consume.