Arise for the Queen

The idea of a cock is intriguing to her. Up close and personal, it's likable enough. But it doesn't have to be really long or really wide to capture her attention. A cock needs to burst at the seams for her.

A cock is merely a symbol. It’s emblematic of what’s going on in his head (e.g. his mind). An explosion of desire sends sparks rushing through his body like Paul Revere galloping through the woods. He froths at the mouth, shouting like a madman: "The British are fucking coming!”

And here they come. A cell of red coats flood the veiny pathways. They trip over themselves in a quickening march towards whatever outcome the queen wills for them, even death.

So, gentle men of the long guard—or of the short—when she bows before you and slides your member over her royal tongue, don't mistake her subversive act for subservience. She will always be your highness. She is performing the only act within her power to show her appreciation for your faithful, bulging service.