Amanda Adams becomes My Queen Ch. 01

Behind the story:

The following story began as a series of messages sent to my girlfriend. She had asked me to share a fantasy with her, so I just started writing a couple of paragraphs at a time- whenever I could find it- or whenever she demanded. Alas, I discovered tragically that it failed to record all of those earliest texts- the headwaters of this whole tale. So I began to archive what remained and what followed- only after that sad discovery. The beginning scenes are missing except for these vague details I can still remember. Perhaps I'll re-write them sometime.

As I sent this fantasy- text by text- to my girlfriend, an amazing thing began to happen. "Our Story" began to take on a life of its own. Sometimes she would take a turn, and interject with a segment of her own... But when the narrative arced in a challenging new way, she requested that I change the names of the characters to help her separate them from us. Eventually she stopped contributing, remarking that she didn't know 'where it was going,' but she still wanted to hear more- commanding me to keep writing and sending her every new segment as soon as it was done.

This is all to explain that there are certain perspective and style discontinuities that I have left in-tact on purpose; but if you're patient and dare to keep reading, you'll notice that eventually the verb-tense and perspective conform to agree on one first-person- that being 'me.'

I like my girlfriend's interjections and I hope you will too. Also with the aid of this story, she really began to grasp the handle of her not-so-proverbial whip, and I found myself more and more worshiping her in our real-life sexual relationship. She punished me with butt-plugs, panties, hard spankings, and even locked my cock up in a cage she purchased herself. Many of the events described in this story are entirely autobiographical, and some are purely fantasy. I leave it to you, dear reader, to guess which are which.

*****

Backstory:

I was very attracted by her picture, as I walked by it, it seemed to beckon me. The beautiful Amanda Adams- a 3/4 profile, long brown hair, oh such a face! It was her business card which I found on the bulletin board at my health-food store. When I showed up for my very first personal training session with Amanda, I was surprised to find her gym void of all other patrons- so it would be just the two of us.

In person, her beauty and charisma were unspeakably hypnotic. Her candor was equally seductive. How could somebody so young and vibrant be so authoritative? She seemed so natural taking on the role of my trainer. Her orders were forceful and somehow suggestive... Was something happening between her and I? What was this strange and exciting chemistry happening between us?

After an hour or so of flirtations and rigorous weight training, I was covered in sweat. She had me really pushing my limits but it felt good to exert myself so hard and wonder if I pleased her.

She explained that I needed lots of additional training and that she would accept me as a special client free of charge if I could pass a series of tests. If at anytime I refused to continue with the testing procedure, I was free to go. I smiled tellingly and agreed to try. She needed to prepare a few things and excused herself leaving me smiling amazed, sitting on the bench press, and looking at my silly reflection over the rack of bar-bells.

Sitting this way, my mind began to drift and my cock began to stiffen at the smell of her subtle pheromones which lingered in the air. I began to rub at the bulge in my shorts teasing myself fully erect beneath the fabric- teasing myself right up to the edge of pre-cum. I wondered what kind of tests she could possibly have in mind for me. The way she said those words made my think it was going to be something... sexy. I pulled and tugged at my cock even checking myself out in the mirror to see if I was making an impressive bulge.

Little did I know that she had been watching me through the 2-way glass and recording the whole thing. She came back out and startled me out of my reverie. She invited me into the back room which would have made a comfortable living quarters. I could see the whole gym and the bench where I had just been flexing through what I then realized was 2-way glass.

The realization that she had been watching me crossed my face and immediately erased my smile- but not my arousal. That's when she ordered me to strip. I couldn't hide my astonishment. She repeated the command, flat out telling me to take off all my clothes- get completely naked in front of her right then and there. I didn't know what she had in mind, but I liked the idea of getting physical with her in any capacity, and she didn't seem like she would take 'no' for an answer.

After my clothes lay in a little pile on the ground below my trembling legs, she produced a bright pink pair of lace-thong panties from behind her back, she held them out to me, telling me to, "Put these on, Buttercup."

I wasted no time sliding the frilly, stretchy fabric over my half hard member. My penis and testes protruded out from all sides in the front and the pink fabric stretched around me most awkwardly.

In my embarrassed arousal she could have made me do anything she wanted. What she did order me to do next was to march myself over to her pillory stock, bend over and place my neck and wrists in the lower half of the restraints. She closed the upper half down on me bolting the apparatus very effectively closed. I tried to wriggle my hands free but soon found out it was futile. Just like that, I found myself completely her prisoner.

Never in my life had I hitherto felt so helpless.

Wordlessly, she began kicking apart my naked feet and ankles until they felt about 3 feet apart. She ordered me to keep my feet this way. Next I heard some whooshing noises behind me. Amanda had picked up a bamboo cane and was practicing with it in the air for me to hear. Genuine fear began to creep into my chest and blood filled my cock in-spite of the fear induced by that horrible sound. The sounds would soon get worse.

She calmly explained that corporal punishment was a very important aspect of her training style and to prove that I could handle it I would need to count and thank her for every stroke. It was also at this shivering moment that she changed our dynamic forever by demanding that I address her as "my Queen" and she would henceforth call me her "Buttercup."

After delivering twenty merciless blows on my poor, virginal, white ass, she unlocked the pillory stock and ordered me to rise. My butt stung so bad that my muscles were spasming, and my cock had shrunk to its smallest, cold-swimming-pool size.

My Queen looked me up and down admiringly for a long cold moment while making up her mind about something. She began to step a circle around me checking out my naked welted body from all angles. She still swished the can through the air like as if ghost fencing; and I winced a little at the sounds. The pink panties framed my twenty burning welts like a humiliating personalized insult written on a bathroom-stall door. I just stood there: pathetic, humiliated, and confused - totally dependent on her to decide what would happen to me next. Whatever she wanted to do, I already knew I would submit.

She stepped to face me and then stuck her thumbs in my pink waist band and pulled them down roughly past my knocking knees. She ordered me to stay just like that.

Next she flicked her finger against my shrunken cock and let out a little giggle. "Don't get erect!" she said amused, "Now I know that all I have to do to shrink your manhood is to give you twenty good ones with a cane- this is useful information."

But of course, I knew my cock was already beginning to fill again...

She quickly retrieved something from a drawer. She knew she had no time for ceremony and worked quickly lubing up my genitals and fitting me with a shiny steel cock ring and cage. This was my very first time in a chastity device and it felt very weird- completely humiliating and also arousing. The main reason why all this was increasing my arousal was because I could see what it was bringing out in her: the way she couldn't keep herself from grinning.

"One more thing before you put those panties back on, Buttercup, something to help me train your sweet little buttercup, Buttercup..."

She made me bend over and touch the floor while she applied more lube to my anus. She stuck in a finger and then removed it oh so slowly. She no doubt was savoring the way my anus muscles gripped involuntarily for her finger. Next I could feel something cold and hard against my anus. She applied slow and steady pressure against it while she encouraged me to open up as I pushed out. Soon the glass buttplug popped securely into place. Heretofore, I'd never had anything inserted into my ass and I felt so humiliated. I felt like protesting and asking her why it was necessary, but she seemed so ecstatic, I decided to just go along with Her ministrations.

"Put your street clothes back on, we're going shopping now, Buttercup," is what she said, "Only, I'm keeping your boxers and you're going to be wearing those panties there on the floor."

She didn't let me in on what we'd be shopping for, but I had a guess that it would be somewhat of a trial for me.

She drove us to the mall in her jeep, explaining that she like to drive and some other protocol she expected when we traveled together. I had no protestations.

Once we arrived, she guided me to a famous lingerie store; and standing in front, explained that I was to pick out seven pairs of panties for myself and be honest with the sales staff about who they were for. I was silent, but I nervously nodded my consent. I had no idea how a shy guy like me would get trough something so embarrassing.

Inside the store- of course- a pretty blonde sales girl approaches us and addresses only you, asking if you need any help...

And now for the story as texted to my girlfriend (and sometimes back to me):

(starting out from my perspective)

You don't answer the sales girl. You smile at her... She smiles nervously back. You pick up a pair of small lavender panties and stretch them out between your index fingers. With your arms extended, you hold them out to me then plunge them down to my waist and press them against my jeans. "I think he's more of a medium, wouldn't you say?"

I must be rather crimson and there is no moisture in my mouth. My heart is throbbing a merciless beat and I can feel it all the way down to my plugged asshole. It dawns on me that if I don't say something you will fill this awkward silence with the most embarrassing conversation possible. I look down and accept my fate and stammer, "I'm looking to buy six or seven pairs of panties, they're actually for me..."

(Her perspective)

I smirk at your chagrin. Your face is a beautiful shade of crimson. The poor sales associate, trying to hide her distress, nods, not making eye contact with you. "You may find what you are looking for over there." She gestures to a circular table nestled between two very scantily clad models. Their outfits giving me ideas for another time. "We have an assortment of cuts, depending upon the style you prefer." You look to me for your next command and I glare at you for even thinking it. The sales associate leaves us to gossip with her associates about the pervert who prefers to wear women's underwear. You are about to step towards it when I place my hand on your shoulder. "I want you to find a combination of cuts for my sweet ass. I want some to be skimpy, barely able to hold your cock in place, and a pair, that when you put it on, you will feel like the most beautiful little girl in the world." You can feel all the eyes on you as you shamefully walk towards the table. I stay firmly in my place. My Buttercup shall do this alone.

I watch from my spot as you begin rifling through the delicate arraignment of panties. You are trying so hard to hide your humiliation but it is not working. You glance up to see that I have not left you, this gives you a slight feeling of relief, for you know your Queen is doing this to help you grow. she wants you to succeed. Your eyes quickly dart from me to the sales associates huddled around the register. Two of them are staring right at you, disgust covers the face of one, and a smirk, on the face of the other. The latter smiles at you and winks, your eyes widen a bit in surprise and I take note. You are scared that I have seen your reaction to her as you quickly turn your face towards me, trying to read my expressionless face. You fear that I may decide to walk away, leaving you there alone, caged and plugged.

I wait for you to make your selection. For an inexperienced little girl, you have excellent taste. But I know there is one more thing needed to complete this new collection, however, it will not be found here in this store.

(back to my perspective)

I approach the register having regained the smallest shred of composure. I choose the register with the girl that seems the least creeped out by me. It's a trade-off because I sense that she's probably the most-likely of the three to tease me about buying panties for myself. I know she knows. She doesn't outright tease but she's grinning a huge knowing grin as she asks, "Did you find everything you were looking for?"

"I just hope everything fits me alright," I manage to mumble just loud enough for her to hear.

She laughs out loud a beautiful melodious note. I'm far too embarrassed to join her laugh.

She delicately packs away my panties in a light pink bag and hands it to me, "Have a fun night," she winks.

(Her perspective)

I wait patiently for you to come back to me. You will not look me in the eyes, your head hangs like a sad little puppy. "Why are you so sad my pet? Are you not pleased with your purchase?" You lift your head, your eyes finding my own. "I feel as though I failed you my Queen." I nod in affirmation. "Tell me why."

"I chose to go to the girl who thought it was funny rather than the one who was more mortified."

"The one who winked at my Buttercup." I reply. Your eyes once again widen, the realization that I saw your interaction with her sends a sinking sensation into the depths of your stomach. "My Queen..." you begin stammering.

"Silence." My voice is firm, but not loud. "It is time to complete your new collection" I pause as you ponder where we will be going next. "And for you to learn who you belong to."

I take your hand in mine. It is warm and clammy from your encounter with me. You walk a half step behind me, feeling unworthy to walk beside me. You are correct.

We walk to the other end of the mall, finding ourselves outside a department store. You glance at me trying to figure out why we are here. "Oh Buttercup..." I guide you in, through the makeup counters, pausing momentarily to look at a shade of lipstick. You stiffen for a moment. "Not yet my pretty little flower..." I smirk at the relief that crosses your face. "You are not ready for this yet." We continue on our way until we are once again in the presence of female garments.

"No panty drawer is complete until there is at least one pair of panties so horrific and yet so comfortable, the woman wants to die if they are ever seen by their partner. I shall now find you this pair. You will wear them for me when I am disappointed with you. I want my Buttercup to feel sexy and empowered, like all other women, but when you disappoint me, you must learn to repent. " Your eyes search the clothes behind you wondering what I will find. "You will have no say in this Buttercup. You will go to those dressing rooms over there." I point to the dark stained doors behind you. "You will wait there until I return." I watch as you obediently follow my orders. Your shoulders are slumped and I can see you glancing around to see who notices us. But I care not. I am not worried about what people will not see, but rather what they will hear b

You wait nervously for me to return to you. The hard bench is reminding you of the plug deep within your ass. You can hear the doors around you opening and closing as other shoppers try on their finds. I knock on the door and you open it a crack to make sure it is me. Stepping back you make room for me in our little haven. I quickly latch the door behind me and turn to meet your eyes. "Strip" I command. Obedient as I expect, you do so. First your shirt, your shoes, then your pants. You leave on the panties, assuming that I want you to stay in them since I chose them. "I said strip." My eyes are intense and you can see the displeasure I have for having to command again. You take off the panties and place them on your pile of clothes. "Look at yourself in the mirror."

You see for the first time how the cage holds you. How it takes away any shreds of manhood you thought you might still have. Any illusion that somehow, you had any control in all of this.

"You will be buying these, do not worry, put them on." I hand you a pair of tan high-waisted panties as I sit on the bench. The cut is extremely unflattering and after wearing the delicate pink ones I gave you, these ones make you feel disgusting and undesirable. "Lay across my lap Buttercup, your face to the mirror."

(my perspective)

I do feel deeply embarrassed as I lay across your lap. I'm conscious of my cage resting against your smooth warm thigh.

"Let's refer to these as your punishment panties, dear Buttercup, unless you'd prefer to call them your period panties?"

"Punishment panties, sounds good, my Queen," I manage scared.

(Hers)

I brush my fingers of my left hand lightly on your back, trailing down your spine to your lower back and then back up. I do this a few times before I speak again. "Do you know why I am punishing you Buttercup?" I say lightly. My hand continues petting you. "Because I displeased my Queen." You can hear how dry your mouth is. You are so nervous as to what will happen next. "Yes Buttercup. What did you do?" My fingers continue stroking your back lightly. I can your skin reacting to my touch. "I chose the girl who would make me less embarrassed. I took the easy way." "Yes, you did. There is no easy way Buttercup. There is only your Queens way." I slip my hand down once more and stop it on the meat of your tender ass. "You will not open your mouth Buttercup. No sound shall escape your lips. Your eyes will never leave that mirror. Nod if you understand me." You nod obediently. Your eyes fixed on the reflection of my hand in the mirror.

(mine)

I'm bracing myself for another hard hand spanking. If that's what you have in mind, I don't know how you and I will manage to stay quiet enough to escape the attention of everyone in this store. But I'm sure that's what you intend for my already tender ass now.

You pull down my ugly punishment panties inches down my thighs where they rest. You begin to tap on the glass plugging my hole rhythmically. Your other hand removes your charmed necklace. You begin to swing your little key like a pendulum in front of my eyes. It's very hypnotic. I see my face, the key, the surface of the mirror, my face...

With your right hand you begin tugging at the plug; my ass clenches instinctively.

"Open, Buttercup," You coo.

I relax my Kegel muscles as much as I possibly can, but they seem to have a will of their own. In spite of my clenching, you pull the plug out with a pop. Sweet relief.

Then without any warning, it's there again with your force behind it, "Open up, Buttercup," you repeat. The last thing I see before I close my eyes is your key swinging back and forth. I lose grip on all control.

(Hers)

"Take off the punishment panties. We must pay for them now." I force you up to a standing position, however it is clear you were not quite ready to do so, for you stumble just a tad. Standing before me, you look completely disheveled. Your face is flushed, tears brim at the edge of your eyes. You strip off the punishment panties and reach for your frilly ones when I quickly snatch them from your fingers. "You won't be wearing these. You don't need panties for what I have planned next." Confused, disheveled, and hurt, you quickly dress. I grab the door knob and you scoot to the back of the room, as though we are coming out at separate times. I open the door, "After you" I smirk. You walk out in front of me and I smack your ass. You jump a bit as I hit the exact spot I have shown so much affection towards. There are three ladies standing outside our door, waiting to use our room. You cast your eyes down in shame. "Apologies, I had to teach someone a lesson." I leave them with that thought.