I don't wanna die!

Your lip quivers, eyes watering as they widen with fear. The look on Dakota's face is deadly serious. Survival instinct kicks in and you start begging for your life like a little bitch.

"P-p-please Dakota... d-don't kill me...." you whimper as you look away in shame.

Before breaking eye contact with her, you could see a wide grin covering her face. She laughs cruelly as she plants both feet firmly on your face, overwhelming your sense of smell with the acrid mixture of dirt, sweat and foot cheese. You buck and flail your arms involuntarily as you gag and cry, trying to break free to no avail. Dakota's laughter grows at your visible and audible disgust, and she decides to press her feet harder into your face, forcing you to breathe in the foul aroma that fogs your brain.

"Kiss it."

You don't even think. You can't fight this woman. Your mind goes blank and you do as she commands. You plant a long, tender kiss on the lowest, dirtiest part of Dirty Dakota's body, signifying to her and everyone in the Domina Arena that you are, now and forever more, a....

"Loser." she whispers,

Dakota keeps you like this for what seems like an hour, and indeed, by the time you feel fresh air again, most of the crowd as left, save a few wastelanders masturbating in the stands to your abject suffering.

Finally, she sits on your breasts, bouncing atop them as she wraps her thighs around your head. She looks down at you with an almost piteous expression before pulling her pants down and thong to the side. The warm smell emanating from her crotch isn't inviting, but you're in position to argue.

Hours pass as you slavishly lap at Dirty Dakota's cunt, occasionally needing a short break to sob as you slowly begin to realize: this is your life now.