Kneel Before Your New Owner

You lie on the dirt of the coliseum on your back, trusted javelin at your side. It has been with you since the start, and glancing at it, you cannot help but feel guilty. It took you so far. It almost feels like you failed your weapon. But more than that... Your mind drifts to your mother and father, your older sister and younger brother. You became a warrior to make them proud. And now...

The cheering of the crowd drifts your attention away, and you see the woman who defeated you panting, wiping sweat off her brow. She wields the sword that won many battles in the old war and a shield, dented in several places from your javeline. She's bleeding from several cuts, but the look on her face is one of equal parts shock and ecstasy.

Joan Arc. A good person; a good friend. She's beautiful and kind, sweet and caring. She held you and let you cry on her shoulder when your old boyfriend, Eis Schnow, broke up with you. Well, it was a mutual break up, but it still hurt.

The thought of being her **** is... strange.

Cursing at your aching muscles, you kneel before her as is custom for losers in the Pit. "Joan Arc, my champion," you state, as so many have stated to you. Your heart races in both shame and... something you didn't expect. Excitement? "I hereby give myself to you. Henceforth, my life is no longer my own. As I have been cut down in battle, so too has my ownership of myself. My mind, body, and soul belong to you." Your heart flutters nervously as the crowd roars in approval.

Joan stares, blinking. "...Say what now?"

You startle. Whatever you'd been expecting, it hadn't been that. Your brows furrow. "You... you do know that for Champion matches... if the reigning Champion loses, they become the new Champion's ****, right?"

Joan stares at you, and she blushes deeply. "They... they what!?"

You blink rapidly, considering. Had Joan joined, not aware of this rule...? "Joan," you say slowly, cheeks heating up yourself, "you did know that, didn't you?"

"..." Her silence speaks volumes, and you can't help but smile fondly. Leave it to Joan to win her first **** without even being aware of what she was doing. "Uh... S-So... Y-You... You're my, um, **** now?"

"Yes, Joan," you say patiently. "I can help you through the process, if you like. We'll need to leave the arena, however." You glance around; the crowd in the seats is growing restless, and they're starting to demand the next fight. The two of you leave for the fighter's cages, where fighters wait before and after matches. You slip behind Joan, whose pace is nervous and awkward as the two of you leave.

"Okay, so... what's first?" Joan asks nervously.

You take a deep breath, fighting down the blush that rises to your cheeks. You never thought you'd have to be saying this...