Queen Hanna's Day of Leisure and the Slave's Unfortunate Duty
Hanna, the reigning queen of her kingdom, had a lovely day out. She strolled through the city streets, taking in the vibrant colors and sounds. The bustling crowds parted ways for her as she sauntered by, heads bowing in submission. Her long, blonde hair flowed behind her like a golden river, and her crimson dress whispered against the pavement. A light breeze carried her perfume, filling the air with its intoxicating scent.
Meanwhile, a young man lay on the ground, his face buried in the dirt. His eyes were closed, and he didn't move an inch. It was clear that he was exhausted from his long morning spent on his hands and knees, groomed to perfection. His skin glistened in the sunlight, beads of sweat running down his back. A slave, he had no choice but to obey his mistress's every command.
Upon Hanna's return, she gracefully descended from her carriage and approached the slave. Her red satin shoes clicked against the cobblestone as she walked, casting shadows on the ground. She surveyed the miserable figure before her and let out a contented sigh. "I'm back, slave," she said with a chuckle, her voice echoing through the silent streets.
Without hesitation, the slave lifted his head and looked up at her. His eyes were filled with fear and resignation, but there was no defiance in them. "My queen," he muttered, his voice barely audible.
Hanna's delicate fingers traced along his jawline, then finally came to rest on his forehead. "You've been such a good boy, lying here all day just for me," she cooed. "I think you've earned yourself a reward." Her warm breath brushed against his cheek, sending shivers down his spine.
Without warning, Hanna sat down on the slave's face, her heavy dress pressing down on him. His nose was filled with the sweet, musky scent of her perfume, and he could feel the heat radiating from her body. She placed a hand on the back of his head, holding him in place as she leaned forward to check her phone.
A wave of disgust washed over the slave as he felt her weight pressing down on him. He had always known that being a slave meant serving his master or mistress unconditionally, but he never imagined it would be like this. He couldn't help but wonder how much lower he could fall.
As if in response to his despair, Hanna suddenly pulled her phone away and took a picture of him. She grinned widely as she examined the image, admiring her handiwork. Then, she sent the picture to her friend with a cheeky message: "Just relaxing with my favorite seat!"
The slave closed his eyes, trying to block out the world around him. He could hear Hanna's laughter echoing in his ears, and he felt her body shaking slightly as she continued to bask in the pleasure of her power.
Despite the humiliation and degradation he endured, the young man couldn't help but envy Hanna just a little. After all, she was free to do as she pleased, while he was nothing more than a slave to her whims.
