Refuse to give her the satisfaction of breaking you.

The odor from her feet whaffs into your nose and fills you with disgust, causing you to turn your head and close your eyes. There's no way you'd do anything so degrading, so disgusting, so humiliating. Not for this smug bitch, and certainly not in front of a crowd of people. In response, Smotherella presses her dirt-covered sole on your cheek, pressing your head down in the dirt.

"Lick it, loser!" She shouts in a playful, almost flirtatious tone. "Lick it and become my sla~~ve."

You shake your head, keeping your eyes closed. You can't bear to look at your conquerer, but you still refuse to give in. She may have beaten you, you've accepted that, but you won't give her the satisfaction of seeing you broken. At least you can tell yourself you'll go down a warrior.

"Hmmph." She rubs her feet over your face and kicks you once more in the head. "You're a feisty one. I'm not gonna bother with you."

You let out a sigh of relief. Maybe, you think, there's a chance of her just letting you go.

"Yeah, you're too much trouble for me to break," she continues. "I'll leave that to whoever buys you."

Then, your heart drops. Smotherella gently strokes your cheek, admiring your features.

"Yes, even unbroken, a beautiful girl like yourself should sell for quite a lot of coin."

You panic and start to struggle as a couple of servants enter the arena, one carrying an iron collar and the other a chain leash. Sitting comfortably on your stomach with her foot holding your head in place against the dirt, you're completely helpless as she takes them and clasps your neck and irons. Then, as she gets up, she gives your collar a cruel tug, choking you and snapping your head back.

Smotherella grabs your ass as if she were sizing up a vegetable at the grocery store, occasionally giving it a soft slap. Then, she slips a ball gag into your mouth just in time to stop your screams when she pulls you out of the arena, forcing you to crawl on all fours. You exit the arena, hurrying behind the winner with your head hung low, the audience laughing and cheering at the sight of your humiliating defeat. Whatever aspirations you had in the arena, those dreams are dead. You're a slave now.