"An ambassador is not simply an agent; he is also a spectacle."
— Walter Bagehot
“Ambassador, Diplomacy is the art of restraining power.”
Felix blinked, realizing that he had been woolgathering. He continued adjusting his hand-tied bow tie in the mirror. He finished finessing the edges of the bow and turned his attention toward the other details of his appearance. His hair was freshly neatened up and his beard was well-trimmed and kempt. Keeping the beard had been a controversial choice for this meeting, but even diplomacy would not get him to go in there with his face naked. He made up for it with an expensive, double-breasted suit with full tails and French cuffs, joined by understated cufflinks and a pocket square folded into an elaborate arrangement to pull the whole look together. Glancing at his pocket watch, he realized that it was just about time to go.
He was so focused on matters of diplomacy that Felix barely noticed the time between leaving his hotel room and walking toward the entrance of the stately room where the meeting would take place. At the door, a man in a dark suit with an earpiece patted him down. Felix fancied that the man took an extra moment or two with his ass and crotch.
Having been thoroughly cleared by security, Felix swept into the room, expecting to be early. It took his eyes a moment to register the people who stood to shake his hand and just what they were wearing.
The Queen, the local Ambassador, and the Queen’s Consort were naked.
She stood, hands on hips, bulge tucked back and taped, the barest ghost of a five o’clock shadow on her cheeks. “Is this the protocol for greeting Royalty where you come from, Mr. Foreign Ambassador? Like a preening peacock? Do you mean to embarrass us, and yourself as well?”
The local Ambassador snorted. “Look at that ridiculous ensemble. How many layers do you need to hide the lies that you intended to feed us, sir?”
The Queen raised a hand to hush the local Ambassador. “Do not speak for us. Frankly, Ambassador, you appear ridiculous. So we will ridicule you.”
The Queen, the local Ambassador, and the Queen’s Consort began to laugh heartily. The Queen herself circled him — not, as it turned out, entirely naked — on her stiletto heels. She pointed at his overlong coattails, at the bowtie he had so painstakingly fixed, at his cufflinks.
Felix woke with a start in his hotel room.
When he realized that he had been dreaming, he breathed a sigh of relief. The diplomatic meeting was still a few days away. Thank goodness, though that also meant that he probably had more stress dreams like this especially strange one to look forward to.
“Ambassador, being retrained through the art of Diplomacy.”
As Felix lost himself in his own eyes, he took a moment to breathe. Not a hair was out of place he was meticulously groomed and clothed as befitted his ambassadorial station. He had been advised in his choices by experts who had handled many visits of State and it would not steer him wrong. With his anxieties behind him, Felix felt ready.
‘Finally,’ thought Felix, ‘Time to make use of my diplomatic skills.’
Giving himself a final once-over, Felix left his hotel room once more.
The distracted journey. The arrival and pat down. The entrance into the richly appointed room.
The still-naked bodies.
This time it was the Queen's consort who gave him a verbal dressing-down. It was the local Ambassador who gave him a literal dressing-down.
“My goodness,” said the Consort. “What an unusual and perverse custom. Are you new to this role? Perhaps there is someone more senior who could take charge of you, so you do not embarrass yourself further.”
The local Ambassador shook his head and began to unbutton Felix's suit jacket. “Allow me to help you.”
As for the Queen, she sat with her legs crossed over imperiously. She seemed to be enjoying watching her Ambassador undress Felix. She hid her smile behind a carefully manicured hand, rubbing gently at the stubble on her chin. Felix could not think of a thing to say — it was as though he had been robbed of the power of speech in his deep embarrassment.
When Felix was finally naked, the local Ambassador flicked one of his nipples gently and turned back to the Queen and Consort. “There now, I do believe that the Foreign Ambassador is now presentable. Does he meet the Queen's approval?”
The Queen inclined her head to one side in the ghost of a nod. “It will suffice. Now then, Foreign Ambassador, do begin stroking yourself so that we can get to the business of this meeting.”
When Felix woke once again in his hotel room, he had a hard-on that wouldn’t quit. Flushing with embarrassment, his mind returned to the already-fading memories of the Diplomatic meeting in his dream. He rubbed one out thinking of the other Ambassador's hands on his nipples, of the way that he had taken Felix in hand and slowly undressed him.
‘Fuck,’ he thought to himself. It wouldn't do to get an erection at the coming Diplomatic meeting. He hoped that the other Ambassador was not as attractive and alluring as in his dreams. At least he wouldn't be naked.
“Ambassador, with all due Diplomacy, you are losing the power of restraint.”
This time, Felix recognized the stress dream for what it was he came to awareness in front of the mirror, adjusting his bowtie. He grinned at himself and decided to take control of the situation — maybe blowing off a little steam in the dream would settle his nerves for the real deal. He loosed the bowtie and removed it, not bothering to fold it or put it neatly aside. As quick as he could, he removed every article of fancy, overblown clothing.
‘Maybe,’ Felix thought, ‘Maybe this dream is trying to tell me that underneath all the fancy trappings, we are all just human beings. Maybe I should wear a simpler suit when I finally go to the meeting. Maybe I should just be myself, naked and unafraid. Unabashed. After all, I was chosen for this role for a reason. I am capable. I am the exact right person for the job.’
He paused and looked at himself in the mirror before departing. His dream-cock was already fully erect, and as he left his hotel room, his gait even and calm, it bounced up and down against his thigh.
The stress dream took a hornier turn when the security agent at the door to the meeting room began to feel Felix up, running cool hands across his erection and balls, making him part his legs to show that he hadn’t taped anything to his skin (or so Felix guessed when the man felt around back there). It felt good, and Felix embraced the dream logic.
He swept confidently into the room, dick still slapping his inner thighs. Felix finally turned to the Queen and her Attendants, expecting to match their nakedness. This was not the case.
No one in the room except for Felix exhibited any surprise, however. Once again, he felt his ability to speak turning off as his throat grew tight with embarrassment. He began to blush furiously.
The Queen stood, resplendent in her leather corset and short matching mini skirt. Her hair was teased out, voluminous and dramatic. a tiara set of the top of her head, tiny zircons gleaming in the light. Her eyelashes were at least an inch long and feathered at the corners, and her eyeshadow extended far beyond the bounds of her eyes. She wore blood red lipstick with a matte finish. She steepled her hands together, nails clicking. She inclined her head to one side, sizing Felix up. She laughed, and the other two began to do so as well.
“Honey, don't you think you're a little underdressed?”
Now Felix took in the Queen's Consort and the local Ambassador. The Consort wore leather pants and a shiny translucent latex shirt with a leather tie overtop. The other Ambassador wore a simple cotton button-down and black Dockers.
All three of them seem to be staring at him hungrily, with shark-toothed grins. The local Ambassador held out a neoprene Bulldog harness to Felix, along with a leather collar and some conspicuous ergonomic knee pads.
“It's clear to all of us now that you are interested in a particular kind of diplomacy. But the situation is still salvageable, Felix. You can show us just how amenable you are to making this diplomatic situation work. Put these on and get on your knees.”
Unsure if he was in fact still dreaming, but feeling somehow safe despite his humiliation, Felix took the harness and collar and threaded them onto his body, then secured the knee pads. He knelt down, staring up at the local Ambassador, who had his cock out by the time that Felix finished dressing. Though he knew that he should have run screaming, Felix was still fully hard and eager to please.
There was something very familiar about the scent of the Ambassador's penis. There was something equally familiar about the feeling of it in Felix's mouth. The Ambassador entwined his fingers in Felix's perfectly combed hair, mussing it and gripping it. He guided Felix's mouth forward until Felix had swallowed him to the hilt. He kept him there for a while until Felix began to struggle ever so slightly. Then he let go, turning Felix's head before he did so that he could watch the Queen and her Consort.
Not five feet away, the Queen had untucked her dick and taken off her wig, which was clearly very warm. Her Consort was mirroring Felix. Felix met eyes with the consort and then turned his attention back to the Ambassador.
Felix tentatively reached up to cup the balls in front of his face and watched the Consort do the same. There was something about seeing his actions matched that way that made Felix feel playful. Side by side, the two of them began a game of one-upmanship. They were both eager to prove that they were the superior cocksucker.
It was also hot to watch the Consort work the Queen’s sceptre in and out of his mouth, trying to match what Felix found was a practiced ease in his own technique. A part of his mind told him rather vaguely that it made sense that he had so much practice. Felix wasn't so sure what kind of Ambassador he was anymore. He could not remember performing ambassadorial duties except what he was doing right now, which hardly seemed like the standard operating procedure.
Soon both the Queen and the local Ambassador were moaning. Gripping Felix by the harness, the Ambassador pulled him closer to the Consort. The Queen and the local Ambassador began to lock tongues. Meanwhile, Felix and the Consort knelt side by side in reversed directions between their respective Doms. Felix tentatively reached out a hand and grabbed the Consort at the base of the cock. Still mirroring, the Consort grabbed Felix in return.
Now there was a new dimension to their game. The Consort began to strategically distract Felix while he was deep-throating the Ambassador’s dick. Felix returned the favour, teasing the Consort’s slit until it was oversensitized and the Consort moaned around the Queen’s dick.
This continued until everyone began to grow so excited that they started to chase their orgasms instead of being too fussed with teasing each other. Eventually, the local Ambassador met eyes with the Queen, and the two of them nodded to each other.
“Okay, boys, it’s a race. Each of you is trying to make Queenie or myself come before one of you makes the other come. If you come before we do, there’ll be a forfeit.”
They were all so close that it was a real mystery who would come first. In the end, the Consort worked his hand around Felix’s cock just so and Felix began erupting with a cry of frustration at losing, followed by cries of pleasure as his dick spat ropes of cum all over his stomach and chest.
The Consort pumped his fist in the air, and those sharklike grins returned to all of their faces. The Consort pushed Felix to the ground, and the Ambassador and Queen towered above him. The Consort got to his feet, and then all three of them jerked themselves to completion, covering Felix in a fine layer of cum. Then, the three of them knelt and began to lick it off of him, laving his body with their tongues.
Diplomatic ties established.
“Was it everything you hoped for, Felix?”
Felix’s Dom and hypnotist, Benedict, who had played the role of the other Ambassador, was rubbing his chest as they cuddled together in the hotel room they had rented for the week of HypnoCon.
Felix gave a contented sigh, rolled toward Ben, and pushed his face into his Dom’s chest, hiding the blush that rose to his cheeks. “Yes. I did not realize that the hypnotic amnesia would be so effective. I didn't even remember who any of you were. It was pretty fucking hot.”
“It was fun to do such an elaborate setup for you, my love,” said Ben, reaching out to touch Felix’s cheek. “You know that Alex loves any excuse to get into drag, and his boyfriend is always game to go along with just about any plan so long as he gets dick by the end of it.”
Felix was touched that Ben had recruited friends from the conference to help fulfill one of his long-standing fantasies. Clearly Ben and the others had a lot of fun thinking up their roles and teasing him. A fleeting thought occurred to him.
Felix rose up onto his elbows and looked Ben in the eyes.
“Do you think that I would make a good diplomatic ambassador?”
“You can do anything that I set your mind to, my love.”