The body still ached from the overwhelming ordeal in the Coliseum. The cheers of the crowd had long faded, replaced only by memories of Kyuba’s cruel laughter as she raped him in front of the crowd. The champion was undefeated for a reason. Against her intoxicating charms and relentless strength, he had been broken down, drained of every ounce of dignity in front of all of Grand Noah. Hours blurred together under the succubus’s torment, her mocking voice and merciless milking echoing in his ears until blackness finally claimed him.

When consciousness returned, the world was quieter, dimly lit by the glow of candles. The stone walls were familiar—the guest chamber of the castle where promises of honor had once been spoken. Yet now ropes bit into wrists and ankles, binding him firmly to a chair. The weight of humiliation settled heavier than chains, and his head hung low until a sudden, sharp voice cut through the haze.

“You... disappointed me.” It was the Queen. She stood before him, her regal composure tempered by an edge of frustration. Her eyes, once filled with patient dignity, now carried a sting of disapproval. She stepped closer, her gown brushing the floor, her hand tilting his chin up to meet her gaze. “Humiliation... this is what the Coliseum has become. And you, meant to be my symbol of change, reduced to another rapetoy spectacle.” Her lips pressed into a thin line before softening into something colder, resolved. “If the arena will debase you, then I shall do the same—until you learn what true resolve means.” With that, she leaned forward, her foot pressed hard and unyielding on his semi-exposed cock.