Feel Like A Fem Queen Novels & Stories

She closes her eyes and opens them again, but this time, it flashes confidence, royalty, and power. "That’s it, my stray... be the queen of my kingdom, and you’ll be my queen after this war," Drake told her. "I am the future queen, who holds the king's power, and a queen should be supreme and superior." All eyes were looking as soon as Emily sat in the center. The room was filled with a tremendous atmosphere. It was cold and intimidating, and no one dared to speak. She didn’t talk; she was just looking at the elite. Her expression was serious as she intimidated everyone. Emily clearly remembers when Beta Dillon reminded her not to show mercy or weakness in front of the elites.

Raquel felt like a goddess, invincible and all-knowing. As she continued to dance around her room, she could hear the sound of her own laughter echoing off the walls. She imagined herself holding court, dispensing justice to all those who came before her. Raquel felt like she was born to rule, and nothing was going to stop her from achieving her destiny. With a triumphant smile on her face, Raquel spun around one last time, feeling like the world was hers for the taking. She was going to be the most powerful Queen the Lycan world had ever seen, and she couldn't wait to make it a reality.

I sighed. “First, words like shit, fuck, don’t suit a queen,” she stressed. “And second, in a few years, you will be 18 and Nash will be 21, and then, you will be rulers. Then, well, then, they won’t have a choice to back down.” “Let’s see,” I groaned.

In the moment of heat, he went down with the flow and said, “She is the queen. I got the queen. Did you hear me witch! I got their queen. She is the Virgin queen. And the most interesting part is that, she herself isn’t aware of her own status. Hahahaha… she … she thinks herself as a mere shifter. Poor girl ! I feel bad for her already. Hahahahaha…. I feel really bad for her.”

“- Ahhhh that’s it, go on, don’t stop, fuck me harder, harder! - Ah, you filthy bitch, I am going to cum! - Not yet! Fuck me, you son of a bitch! Harder! Do not stop! - Yeah, yeah, yeah… - I am close, go as fast as you can! - Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…… - Mmmmm…. aaaaaaaahhhhh…. I am done.” My name is Andrea and I am the Futanari queen, the goddess of sex, and whomever I choose is my submissive bitch. I go to the bar where you can ask for any drink your heart desires. The bartender is a beautiful siren with beautiful blue eyes and red hair. I ask for two shots of tequila and three slices of lemon, drink it fast, and go on to the dance floor.

Self-consciousness washed over me more intensely than ever. "What's wrong? Why is your face all red all of a sudden?" Damon asked, clearly concerned. "Your pack is huge, which means you have a lot of people. Many will find out I'm their queen. I don't look the part, and honestly, I don't feel like a queen right now," I admitted, my face growing even redder by the second. Damon smiled reassuringly and took my hand. "It's okay. It doesn't matter if you look the part or not. What's important is that you are their queen, and they will fall in line either immediately or be persuaded to do so."

Angie interjected with a smile, "That sounds like it could be a fun... kind of like when I used to chase and tickle you two around when you were younger and it was your birthday... and now you wanna do the same to me or should I say, the royal and most elegant queen." She leaned back on the sofa, smiling at them loving the way they were comparing her to a queen. At best, Angie thought of herself as slightly better than average looking so being compared to a queen was a real compliment, although she had two distinct physical traits that any queen would envy: her hair and her boobs.

This is a very sensitive topic for me, and it's too soon, so I might be hearing things. "I want you to know that I truly appreciate your support, and I also want you to know that it’s okay if you can’t be in the same space as me right now. I know as the first queen, you are expected to always be there regardless of how you feel, but Eva, it’s okay if you can’t. I understand if you need a little time to yourself. I will never funnily think of you because of that," she says, squeezing my hands, and I tell her she mustn’t be sorry.

And I turned to the crowd with wide eyes. An ear-deafening sound followed. I almost took a step back out of shock. I have never heard or seen people go THIS crazy. Everybody jumped, screamed, cheered, and laughed. I would never forget this sight. There were proud eyes on me and yes, my nipples were still hard, but I didn't care. I was their queen. I was their human queen. They already thought human skin was desirable, and now they had a human queen. My body was something to be proud of. Everybody was. There was something unique and beautiful about everybody's skin and I felt proud to show off mine.

I don’t fall for names whispered in gossip circles like some foolish girl with stars in her eyes. And yet— My feet stay rooted, unwilling to move as their chatter continues to flood the air. “She’s so lucky,” another woman gushes. “To be born and have men like that competing for her. A perfect life.” “Her life is perfect, truly,” someone sighs. “And now she gets to be queen.” Me? Queen? I almost laugh. “She should be celebrating,” someone insists. “If men were lining up to marry me, I’d be ecstatic.”