We entered the chamber, and obviously, that wasn't the secret chamber hiding the treasure of the famous demon.
Or did you really think a legendary chamber, sought after for generations by demons, could be found just like that, so easily?
However, to the Queen, it seemed she had found a treasure of incalculable value. Her eyes sparkled; her body language clearly showed her excitement. She was like a mischievous child who had just gotten a long-awaited new toy.
And me, you ask? I wasn't excited at all. By now, it should be pretty clear who's the dominant one in our relationship. When I saw what that chamber contained, all I could feel was dread. After all, I certainly wasn't going to have any control over what would happen next. For me, the consequences could be extremely painful.
The chamber, my friends, was a BDSM dungeon. If you're not a fan, now's your chance to leave and wait for the next chapter — because this time, I can't skip a detailed description of the events. This chapter needs to be over a thousand words.
The Queen had already changed her outfit. She wore a white blouse and a tight skirt. The blouse clung to her body; the top buttons were undone, forming a neckline that exposed the Queen's ample breasts. Through the cleavage, you could glimpse a bit of the black lingerie she was wearing.
The skirt was tight, highlighting the beautiful curves of her wide hips and toned thighs. A small slit allowed her tail to move comfortably but also made a part of her panties visible.
She wore elegant red high heels, glasses on her face, and held a clipboard — completing the MILF-teacher look.
"It's come to my attention that you've been a very naughty boy, Prince Arthur," she began, sending a shiver down my spine. "I have no choice but to place you in detention."
She had barely finished those words when I was already transported. When I came to, I was strapped to a spanking bench, wearing a Japanese schoolboy uniform. My butt was exposed to the air, raised high, completely vulnerable.
The tip of a whip traced down my spine and then — a sharp crack — and I screamed in pain.
"Naughty boys need to be taught," another whip strike. "You need to learn through pain not to repeat your mischief." Another lash, even stronger.
From the sting, my butt was probably already red.
The Queen leaned in close to whisper in my ear:
"Do you promise to be a good boy?"
I could feel her breath on my ear.
"Yes, I promise" — another strike.
"I didn't hear you."
"Yes, I promise" — another strike.
"Promise what, my naughty boy?" she asked, now running her fingers over my sore, bruised skin.
"I promise I'll be a good boy." Her fingers drifted dangerously close to a very sensitive region.
Luckily for me — or maybe not — there were many toys available, and before she could punish me more invasively on the spanking bench, another device caught her eye.
With a snap of her fingers, I was now bound to a St. Andrew's Cross, wearing only a torn prisoner's pants.
The Queen had changed her outfit again. Now she wore a military uniform, which still managed to highlight her curves perfectly.
"We have all night. You'll tell me the positions of your troops. Willingly," she clipped a clamp onto one nipple, "or not."
Then she clipped the other nipple.
"I don't know the positions of the troops! Please, have mercy…"
"There's no point lying. Our intelligence confirmed you're a high-ranking officer." She now picked up a candle and let the melted wax drip onto my chest. It rolled down toward my stomach, burning my skin. I could only moan in pain.
"Looks like I'll have to be harder on you," she said. And suddenly, I was chained to the floor, wearing only underwear.
Now the Queen wore a black leather corset, panties, garters, and high-heeled boots.
She sat in a chair, placed strategically between my legs. A cigarette in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.
"Are you going to be a good husband for your Queen?" she asked, looking at me with a mischievous expression. Then she stepped on my groin. She didn't use much force, but that region is very sensitive. I just screamed in pain.
"Will you do everything your wifey wants?" she continued, pressing her foot into my parts.
"I... I promise," I said, gasping. For me, it's always been — and still is — a mystery how pain and pleasure can be such a perfect match.
"I have a very creative mind. Are you sure you'll do everything I want?" she asked with an even more wicked look.
"I promise. I'll do everything my Demon Queen commands. I'll be a perfect, obedient husband who follows every order."
"Can I really trust you?" Her foot now pressed down even harder.
The pain was unbearably pleasurable.
"I'll do anything my Queen wants," I shouted in ecstasy, and in the next second, my position changed again.
I was now tied and suspended from the ceiling by ropes, my body held in a position meticulously designed to leave me completely exposed — at the mercy of all the Queen's most sadistic fantasies.
But it didn't stop there. The transformation now wasn't just about outfits.
In fact, there was no outfit at all — I was completely naked. Except now, I had become once again a delicate young woman with curly black hair.
And the Queen had transformed back into that slender man with sharp features and long silver hair. She too was completely nude now — revealing something terrifyingly large between her legs.
"You promised you'd fulfill all my desires, my prince. I hope you don't regret it."
And here, I thank God that we've hit the thousand-word quota and I can leave the rest to your imagination. Because I don't even like remembering everything that happened that day — and continued happening for several days — inside that chamber.