Round Two: The Crown of Humiliation

Deep within Anna, two conflicting emotions raged: shame and the thrilling sensation of being conquered threatened to break her. In her dreams, Kalon's contemptuous gaze and brutal actions replayed over and over. He trampled her, humiliated her, mocked her body's reactions, his obscene words branded into her soul. In her dream, she tossed and turned, her body's agitation intensified, her lower body constantly secreting fluids, soaking the sheets.

In one dream, Kalon pressed her back down with a heavy boot, mocking her weakness, his voice whispering taunts in her ear. Despite the humiliation, her body couldn't suppress a shameful heat. She was a Queen, yet she craved this humiliation and loss of control.

Another dream flashed: Kalon's figure was darkly silhouetted against a backdrop of buildings, lifting her upside down after defeating her, displaying the outfit they constantly mocked her for, ridiculing her attire, mocking her for admitting in her self-abandoned dream that she dressed like a slut, admitting she was a whore. Anna was powerless to resist in the dream, forced to endure the humiliation, her body trembling in degradation, each insult making her more sensitive and ashamed.

Then, the dream shattered, and Anna was jolted back to the edge of reality. She stood in a sun-drenched courtyard, facing Kalon, angrily proposing a no-weapons duel. His noble companions stared at her greedily, their eyes undisguised with lust, their words full of mockery, praising her "alluring" figure, "Duke Kalon, allow me to hold your sword, be careful, our beautiful Majesty might kick," they laughed.

She lunged forward with a full-power sweep kick, but Kalon effortlessly caught her leg, forcibly spreading her legs apart. His strength and agility were inhuman, before Anna could question anything, his other hand reached between her thighs, his fingers finding their target, eliciting a gasp of pain and pleasure. The sound of his gloved hand rubbing against her wet skin echoed in the courtyard, playing a symphony of her humiliation.

Three days of suppressed longing had made her sensitive and desperate. Every caress was unbearable, every touch made her tremble. Just as she was on the verge of climax, Kalon deliberately stopped, teasingly. He could feel her on the brink, but cruelly refused her satisfaction. His fingers lingered there, suspended above her desire, with a contemptuous smile.

Anna's body trembled, her voice whispered brokenly, "Kalon...enough...don't..."

Kalon merely smirked, continuing to hold her in that suspended state. He savored the control, enjoying her struggle in desperation. Her body yearned for release, but he mercilessly held her on the edge of climax, unable to cross that final threshold. He didn't even deign to let her climax, as if that would be too easy, too cheap a release for her.

"Look at you now, Your Majesty," Kalon said contemptuously, "So desperate, so pathetic."

Anna had completely given up resisting, her voice becoming even more helpless, "Kalon...please...end this..."

But Kalon simply shook his head, withdrawing his hand again, completely denying her that impending climax. Her body twisted in pain and longing, tears began to flow, while Kalon just sneered, reveling in her complete breakdown, as if she were merely a broken toy. He did not even give her a moment of pleasure, but chose to let her wallow in endless desire.

Kalon then turned to leave.

"This afternoon is the graduation ceremony at the Holy Light Military Academy, Your Majesty. The students have unanimously requested that you personally preside over it," Kalon's voice was calm, almost casual, as he turned his back on Anna and walked away. "The border is in urgent need, and if nothing else, you will have to prepare to lead the troops yourself, taking this graduating class directly to the battlefield. Rest assured about the affairs of the kingdom, I and several lords will take care of them."

The nobles beside him exchanged knowing glances, a slight contemptuous smile on their lips. One corpulent lord, adorned with extravagant jewelry, covered half his face with a fan, but his gaze roamed freely over Anna's body, as if assessing a commodity for sale. Another nobleman, with a meticulously trimmed mustache and wearing a magnificent uniform, cleared his throat pretentiously, as if to hide his inner excitement, only his slightly trembling fingers betrayed his true emotions. The air was filled with a mixture of perfume, sweat, and shameful juices, everyone with ulterior motives, waiting for the moment the Queen would completely fall.