The problem persists.

"Why won't you go down!"

It was a highly rhetorical question, even though her genitalia couldn't answer she knew what it would say: your fault not mine. She had to do something to get this under control, sooner than later. The coronation was impending and she could not, for the absolute life of her, get rid of her erection. Perhaps as some kind of side effect of her magic, her manhood utterly refused to go down. No matter how tight she tried to make the leash, it did nothing but put her in more pain.

And now she had sequestered herself in the bathroom, regarding her rather impressive arousal with mild hatred and despair.

She refused to be the kind of person, let alone queen, who was subject to their own lustful desires. It was time for something more drastic.