On the throne, the Queen threw her head back, her eyes closed, as the delicious sensations built and built within her. She reached a hand to one of her breasts, and her fingers pinched and pulled her hard coffee coloured nipple, electricity shooting through her chest, traveling down her body and adding to the pressure in her core. She felt like every nerve was singing as the Slave's tongue lashed at her.

She opened her eyes and looked down before her. She was dimly aware of the crowded hall. As was tradition, the audience took their cue from her to indulge in their own pleasures in earnest, and had waited until the Slave began eating her out.