King's Throne → Queen's Bed

...Play around a little. Not that I wasn't thinking with my 'second head' earlier, but seeing that and feeling Arma's tits swell in time with her mother certainly stirred some... feelings, so let's try and steer the context of this meeting a little more directly and replace 'King's Throne' with 'Queen's Bed.'

The world shifts and bends as the scene changes drastically.

The columns and stone walls vanish, replaced with austere wood paneling and intricate gold inlays over it. Fancy red curtains fall to one side over a window, in front of which appears an endtable with some kind of golden trophy. Then the entire room spins and bends until I'm looking at a corner instead of a wall.

Meanwhile, the 'throne' keeps its orientation and transitions into the headboard of a large white-sheeted mattress, upon which her majesty the Queen continues to sit. Then I find the distance between us shrinking and she starts to change.

Her left hand slides up its opposing arm to rest on her other elbow as she brings her knee on that side up and in front of her groin, concealing the lower half of her right arm entirely from view. Her dress turns from gold and black to white and blue, with thin gold trim, and the thin straps which held it aloft before vanish. It's a complete mystery what keeps those cups from falling right off the absurdly massive tits they're keeping 'modest.'

Lastly, her Majesty's face and expression both shift, with the former becoming slightly more youthful and the latter becoming more intimate and enticing and...

...honestly, so much just changed I don't think I can even list it all. I think her tits might've even gotten bigger, for instance, but it's hard to tell.

Curiously, I feel Arma's posture and positioning shift as well. Rather than clinging tightly and possessively to my arm, she's embracing me from behind, with one hand grasping my dick and pulling it free of my pants while the other vigorously rubs into my chest.

I, ahem, I really... really doubt Arma's mom is mad at her anymore. Or that we're here to discuss anything remotely resembling - what was it? - a matter of national importance? I gotta admit, there's a lot I still haven't done with the Prompt but...

...I'm really tempted to find out just how much the context of this meeting just shifted, although I've some very strong (and hard) suspicions.

(slut-queen, pink hair, feminine face, massive enormous breasts, biting lip seductively, arms crossed, seated, royal apparel, queen's bed, crown, inside a castle)