[EPILOGUE: "WHERE YOU BELONG"]

You awake to find yourself strapped to a leather sofa. Bindings keep you in place around your ankles, knees and most uncomfortably of all, your breasts.

"Wakey wakey ****!" Your gut fills with fear at the sound of your conqueror, Domina Smotherella. "Are you ready to get to work?"

You're too frightened to respond. Smotherella bends over and looks you dead in the eye.

"Sorry about the restraints sweetie, but I need to make sure you won't try to escape."

Your eyes widen in terror. Is this really how you're career as a gladatrix will end? As she turns around and pulls down her leggings, you get your answer. Helpless and immobilized, you watch in horror as her ass covers your face again. You consider it a mercy that there's a thong between your mouth and her asshole. But still, the smell is overpowering.

"Ahhh..." she lets out a contented sigh as she makes herself comfortable on your face. "I don't know what it is, but your face is just so much more comfortable than any chair!"

After keeping you there for what seems like an eternity, she moves aside and plants her demure foot on your face and presses gently against your lips.

You don't wait for her to tell you what to do. Almost eagerly, you begin to lick the bottom of her foot, then the other when she moves it over your face.

"Good girl! You know your place, don't you?"

You nod.

"Tell me. Tell momma where you belong."

"... under your feet."

The victorious gladiatrix lets out a hearty laugh as you continue to worship her feet. And you do so for hours, which turn to days, then weeks before you lose track of time and the person you once were.

She eventually frees you from your binds once she deems you to be totally broken. You spend the rest of your life licking her feet, sucking her toes, eating her ass and any and everything she commands you.

Your career as a gladiatrix meets a humilating end, and your failure haunts you for the rest of your days, as your new mistress often reminds you of your shameful defeat.