A queen does not spend all her time on her knees, but I find myself there often these days. Not in supplication—never that—but with my mouth wrapped around my darling's cock, worshiping what is mine. I've discovered a new addiction: the taste of his cum flooding my throat, the way his hands fist in my hair as I swallow every drop. It's more intoxicating than any hellfire. Anyone else who's ever tasted him is now dust in my memory. There is only my tongue, his length, and the shared hunger that binds us. If you think this is submission, you misunderstand power completely.