The Obsidian Spire stayed trapped in eternal twilight. Crimson and silver light filled the hall. The floor stayed slick with cum and flame-oil from the night before. Every step made feet slide. Pillars along the walls pulsed like thick veins.
Isolde stood in the center. She no longer pretended to submit. Glowing chains wrapped her body like a crown and harness. Links cupped her heavy breasts and framed her dripping cunt. She looked like a queen who had taken the throne by force and pleasure.
Catherine and Sabrina stood at her sides. Flora and Luna knelt at their feet, faces still covered in dried cum. The rest of the noblewomen formed a wide circle around them, kneeling in neat rows.
